Awaken Me
by Evenstar496
Summary: Professor Lupin begins to see Hermione in a new light and is torn between attraction, fear, and guilt. When Harry breaks up with Hermione, will Remus make his move or will Harry come back and spoil everything? CHAPTER 7 UP!!!!! Please R&R!!!!!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Hey all - This is my first fan fiction and I'm desperate for feedback. Please R&R "**" marks indicate a character's thoughts.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Nothing hurts when  
  
I go to sleep  
  
But i'm not tired  
  
I'm not tired" -Ben Folds Five  
  
  
  
It seemed another insignificant January afternoon at the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Remus Lupin, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, hadn't an inkling of the trouble approaching him as he leisurely strode down the second floor corridor to his classroom. Hogsmeade weekend had arrived, and most of the students had gone off to the all-wizarding village to socialize and stock up on the candies and gadgets that would have to hold them until their next visit. The pace at school was far less urgent, far less chaotic - just the way Remus preferred it. A fine, quiet afternoon grading papers awaited him. Maybe he'd settle down later with a good book and a glass of wine. Remus had grown accustomed to isolation after a life of fleeting friends and short-lived jobs and he took pleasure from these little luxuries of solitude. Papers and books, at least, didn't abandon a man who happened to be a werewolf.  
  
**What in Merlin's name is that?**  
  
Remus came to an abrupt stop. He stooped and stood very still, his ears keen to place a faint din that seemed to emanate from further up the hall. The nearer he approached, the stranger the noises struck him - quiet mumbling mixed with poorly muffled outbursts. Though somehow not a fitting racket to be coming from one of the classrooms, it struck Remus as vaguely familiar. His mind wandered back to his youth as a student at Hogwarts, of his best friends - the Marauders, and their randy antics. A smirk tugged at the corners of Remus' mouth, as it dawned on him, with great amusement, what he was hearing.  
  
**Right then! Sounds like somebody's getting some help with their anatomy homework.**  
  
He chuckled quietly to himself, remembering James Potter, Sirius Black, and himself and the many scrapes they'd barely avoided because of an illicit shag or two. They, too, had gotten their "educations" in the abandoned classrooms, corridors, and secret passageways of Hogwarts, right under their professors' noses. They weren't above sneaking into dorms, either. How else had they obtained such intimate knowledge of the castle's environs?  
  
**Breasts and sweat and tangled sheets.  
  
It's been too long, he thought. How I've managed to ignore those base instincts is completely beyond me. I wanted emotional stability, right? But it has been lonely.a little instability might almost be worth it.**  
  
Remus approached the suspect classroom.  
  
"I've been missing this all week," a male voice rasped. His young lover gave a long, lilting sigh in response.  
  
**Wait a minute now. I know those voices!**  
  
As he walked on, he glanced through the gap between the barely open door and its frame, playing unaware and nonchalant.  
  
**Oh, no!**  
  
He did, indeed, know those voices - and quite well.  
  
Shocked, yet moved by a force that seemed beyond his very body, he stopped, backtracked, and took another, longer peek.  
  
Hermione Granger was pressed up against the cold stone wall. Her robes were strewn haphazardly on the floor, along with her sweater and - Help me! Remus thought - her panties.  
  
**Close your eyes, Remus. Move! Go! You shouldn't be seeing this!**  
  
Despite his better judgment, he remained in hidden observation, as if his feet had been rooted to the floor.  
  
Hermione's oxford blouse was open, her bra undone and revealing the round pertness of her breasts. And, as Remus suspected, there was Harry Potter - son of James and Lily Potter (**My friends! This is wrong! MOVE!**) - slowly circling his tongue around her hard, darkly pink nipple.  
  
**How long since you've tasted a nipple, Remus? Two, three, four years? Can you even remember?**  
  
Remus was painfully aware that he needed to resume walking and forget he'd ever seen anything even vaguely sexual transpire between Harry and Hermione, but he was simply riveted, uninterested in any world beside the one inside that classroom. His eyes were fixed on the young lovers.  
  
Harry's pants lay at his feet. His briefs, too.  
  
**This is really a new low for you, Remus - watching your best friends' child - almost a son to you -half naked and humping his girlfriend.**  
  
But the boy wasn't Remus' focus.  
  
Harry grasped Hermione's knees at either side of his hips, her slender knee-socked calves and black-shoed feet dangling rhythmically from his hands. She laced her fingers behind his neck, leveraging herself up a bit, and sought his mouth with urgent kisses. Her skirt had bunched up to the tops of her thighs as Harry thrust in and out of her, biting his lip in concentration. A tantalizing view of the soft, springy curls massed between her legs peeped out from underneath the careless folds of her skirt.  
  
**Is that her - oh, god - don't look, DON'T LOOK!...wow.**  
  
Hermione swept her head back, the sleek, supple lines of her neck inviting Harry's attention, as he forged a path to her collarbone with his tongue. Her lips parted and she moaned in aching pleasure.  
  
**STOP!**  
  
As if awakening from a trance, Remus' eyes jerked away from Harry and Hermione's lovemaking, his body jolting slightly. He moved swiftly past the classroom, adjusting his robes to hide what was, perhaps, the most inappropriate erection he'd ever had.  
  
* * * *  
  
Remus had a torturous evening. He tried valiantly to distract his mind from visions of what he'd witnessed earlier that day. There were papers to be graded - quite a few. He found himself reading essays two and three times over, realizing he'd gotten through two-thirds of Justin Finch- Fletchley's piece on Vampiric Dietary Habits or Pansy Parkinson's five- page run-on sentence about The Elimination of Killer Rabbits in the Scottish Highlands and didn't have a clue what he'd just read. Instead, he'd memorized the ecstatic expression on Hermione's face as Harry savored her flesh. Remus was surrounded by broken quills, inadvertently snapped in half with tension as he fought back those powerfully erotic thoughts and one hell of an arousal.  
  
**Hermione Granger, so eager, so knowledgable - apparently not solely in the classroom - well.not in a strictly academic sense, he told himself. Those breasts, creamy and firm, bouncing gently with Harry's thrusts. And her hips grinding insatiably against Harry's. And, of course, the blissful anguish on her face as that primal, wild noise left her mouth. **  
  
**The same face that will no doubt greet me with a sunny smile as I arrive for class Monday. The same mouth out of which will pour thoughtful, intelligent comments about our lesson. And what will I be thinking about?**  
  
Oh, yes. The best part.  
  
**Remus, don't even think about it. It's only trouble.  
  
Trouble - yes, I could do without that.**  
  
But Remus couldn't resist a passing thought of the sweet foretaste of sex peeking out from under her skirt.  
  
**One second couldn't hurt.  
  
.okay, maybe it can.**  
  
Papers weren't holding him. He picked up a book and began to read, but knew he wasn't concentrating when he realized his mind was only registering smutty fiction about a smart young schoolgirl. Frustrated, he slammed the book shut and decided it was time for the wine. It did, indeed, do the trick, but only because one glass became the entire bottle and he passed out on his bed, too drunk to think straight.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Monday.  
  
Almost time for DADA with Harry and Hermione.  
  
**Professionalism, Remus. Self control. Mind over matter. Especially mind over matter.**  
  
Remus walked to class with his usual easy gait and air of likeability and good-humor.  
  
**Hi, Hannah - I'm just fine, thank you.  
  
Smile. Don't forget to smile. Nice and easy. Smile a lot.  
  
Alicia, Katie! - how're practices going? Splendid! See you Saturday!  
  
Smile.  
  
Good job, Remus.**  
  
He was smiling most pleasantly as he strode into class. Everyone was there.  
  
**Ah, yes, he sighed inwardly, Wonderful to see all these familiar faces. Neville. Dean. Lavender. Seamus. Harry - all right, this is a bit awkward. Hermione. Oi!**  
  
It was a stressful session for Remus. He'd never been so thankful for robes in his entire life. It was rather impossible to catch sight of the curves of one particularly lovely student's body in such free-flowing garb. Still, he couldn't so much as glance at the girl without images of her classroom tryst with Harry invading his thoughts. As her teacher, he was repulsed by the lecherous ideas forming in his mind. Unfortunately, he was equally as turned on. And didn't it seem somehow even more deprived, he thought, that he was having lustful thoughts over his best friends' son's girlfriend? It was all starting to become quite confusingly incestuous to Remus. But no less tempting, of course.  
  
He tried to avoid direct eye contact with Hermione and was mostly successful, consciously evading acknowledgement of her urgently waving hand all period. As class neared its end, however, Remus worried his behavior might appear rather conspicuous.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger."  
  
**Don't look. Don't look.**  
  
He quickly glanced down at his grade book and made to write something of great importance as Hermione's voice droned - **That's right - drone. Don't listen. Block her out** - in the back of his head.  
  
"Excellent! Correct as usual, Miss Granger," he said without looking up.  
  
Occasionally, he would catch a glimpse of Harry's hand curling around Hermione's or Hermione's foot dancing flirtatiously up Harry's leg. Remus felt a strange twinge. It disturbed him. He certainly wasn't envious of a sixteen year old boy - a boy he mentored and cared for as nearly a son.  
  
**No. Definitely not. Not in the slightest.not at all.**  
  
Harry whispered something to Hermione, his lips hovering so closely to her ear, Remus wasn't entirely certain he wouldn't begin nibbling at her flesh. A playful, sly expression spread across her face. Their heads parted and she grinned widely. Harry looked slightly anxious.  
  
Were they planning another illicit rendezvous? Would they return to the scene of this weekend's crime?  
  
**No. Of course not. It's a school day. Too many people about.  
  
Where then?**  
  
And, as Remus was silently berating himself as the sick, perverted bastard he had become, it was time to dismiss class. He was greatly relieved. Mission completed. No casualties.  
  
**But wait.**  
  
Hermione was approaching his desk, smiling sweetly.  
  
**No, no, no, no!**  
  
"Professor Lupin?"  
  
He looked up at her tentatively, knowing he couldn't continue to avoid her gaze without rousing suspicion.  
  
"Yes, Hermione," he replied, forcing himself to greet her with the warm, good-natured smile he usually wore. "How can I help you?"  
  
**Please, please let me help you.**  
  
"I was just wondering if we were still meeting this afternoon - to discuss my paper on chapter six."  
  
**Damn!**  
  
"W-why of course, Hermione. I look forward to it -"  
  
**And how!**  
  
"-although I have a staff meeting at four, so I won't be available until around five. Is that a problem?"  
  
"Not at all. In fact, I have to meet Harry after classes."  
  
"Five it is then."  
  
"Great," she beamed, turning with a spring and dashing out of the classroom with her books pressed to her chest. "See you later, Professor Lupin."  
  
Which was exactly what he feared. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,  
  
and hidden in the public eye.  
  
Such a stellar monument to loneliness.  
  
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes  
  
and perfect makeup but you're barely scraping by." -Dashboard Confessional  
  
**You must be kidding! What the hell is wrong with me lately?!**  
  
Remus was on his way to the faculty meeting on the first floor when he swore he could again hear noises echoing from a classroom up ahead. Initially, he thought it another trick of his haunted imagination. He blinked hard and rubbed his ears, trying desperately to squelch the sounds, but they would not abate. This was no daydream. The noise was real.  
  
**Oh no.not again. Keep walking, Remus. Don't look. Don't even think. Just keep moving.**  
  
He sped past the room at a near jog, but was stilled by a clearer impression of what he was hearing. It wasn't sex. No, the noises were more innocuous - soft, muffled whimpers and hiccups, the occasional sniffle. He reversed his steps and peered quietly through the door way.  
  
Hermione was perched at the edge of an unused professor's desk, her face buried in her hands. Her body quaked and quivered as little cries eluded her efforts to remain silent.  
  
Remus cleared his throat and tapped lightly on the door, "Hermione?"  
  
She hastily hopped down from the desk, swiping the tears away from her eyes and cheeks and straightening out her skirt. She managed a weak smile as Remus entered.  
  
"Hello, Professor Lupin," she said, poorly feigning a casual tone. "How are you?"  
  
"Better than you, apparently," he smiled sympathetically, a note of concern and interest in his eyes.  
  
"I'm just fine, Professor Lupin," Hermione lied, wide-eyed and seemingly unaware of any indication to the contrary. "Nothing wrong that I know of."  
  
His gaze sought her mercilessly, "You look awfully distraught over nothing."  
  
Hermione suddenly felt quite naked. She could fool neither herself nor him. And yet, while she trusted Lupin, she hesitated to reveal the cause of her sorrow.  
  
"It's really very silly. Juvenile. I'm sure you wouldn't want to waste your time listening to a heap of schoolgirl rubbish," she said nervously.  
  
"Why don't you let me judge for myself, Hermione?"  
  
He pushed the door against its frame, though not fully closed. His only intention was to help a student clearly in distress, yet he still felt uneasy about the idea of being shut alone in a room with her.  
  
Hermione stood thoughtful and uncertain for many moments, her eyes searching his for reassurance and encouragement.  
  
"Um.well.H-Harry - he-he broke up with me," she said, her voice breaking. "He says he doesn't love me anymore."  
  
She screwed up her face and began to sob violently, running to Remus and burying her head in his robes. He felt rather uncomfortable - having her so close. The top of her head shook softly against his chin. Her long hair tumbled down her back, a tremoring waterfall of curls. It smelled of peaches and honey.  
  
**Intoxicating.  
  
No! Not now. She needs you!  
  
As a source of guidance, not.well.**  
  
He held her carefully, patting her back in a comforting fashion.  
  
"I'm very sorry, Hermione," he said, void of the covetous envy he'd felt only hours before. "These things are never easy."  
  
"I just don't understand," she cried into his chest. "No matter how I look at it, it doesn't make sense. I thought we were so in love."  
  
"I'm afraid, Hermione," Remus said slowly, not without a hint of his own past heartbreaks, "that love is a thing to which logic rarely applies. None of us has yet mastered it."  
  
"But just the other day, he told me he loved me and I know - I just know - he meant it."  
  
"I wish I could explain it to you, Hermione. Everyone has their own reasons for doing the things they do. It just might not make sense to us because we can't see what's inside another person's head or heart."  
  
"I thought I was."  
  
Remus took her by the shoulders and held her back at a distance. He looked in her eyes intently.  
  
"Hermione, if he's worth it, you will be. Trust me on this."  
  
Hermione rubbed her eyes and sniffled. Her tears were tapering off.  
  
"I must look a sight," she said, self-consciously.  
  
**One the contrary, Miss Granger. Even with your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, you're still radiant. Perhaps Potter's got a screw loose.  
  
Not that I have any right to think it.**  
  
"You've got nothing to worry about, Hermione. No one in this room is concerned about your appearance right now."  
  
**Liar.**  
  
"I'm sorry to get so slo-"  
  
Remus and Hermione turned swiftly toward the door, which had not only completely closed, but seemed to be locking itself, as well. Remus shot over and tugged on the handle. The door didn't budge. He pulled out his wand and performed several spells, each failing to undo the outside bolt. Completely confounded, Remus stared thoughtfully at the door, stroking his chin and speaking softly to himself.  
  
"What is it, Professor Lupin?" Hermione inquired anxiously.  
  
He cast a wary glance over his shoulder and then turned to face her, an ominous quality to his expression.  
  
"The door won't open. I've tried every spell and charm I know and nothing's working. If my hunch is correct, ours isn't the only room to be sealed up."  
  
"You-you don't think it's."  
  
Remus slowly nodded his head, dread clouding his eyes.  
  
"There have been signs - small, subtle signs - that he's preparing for another attack."  
  
Hermione's stomach grew leaden. She felt so filled with dread, she feared she would vomit. If Voldemort was performing his dark magic on Hogwarts, he might attack all of them. He might go after - "HARRY!!!!"  
  
She leapt to the door and frantically began to wrench the handle and kick at the door with all her might. Remus wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her away with difficulty, her arms and legs flailing wildly.  
  
"Hermione! You MUST calm down! Unless you want to knock yourself out, you won't accomplish anything by wrestling with that door."  
  
Her tears had begun anew and she was hyperventilating. "They're - Harry - get Harry - kill him - they kill - Harry!"  
  
"Hermione, you've got to get a hold of yourself. Breathe.Breathe slowly. C'mon.there.much better."  
  
She continued to weep quietly. Remus took her hand and squeezed it, speaking in a steady, measured voice. "We don't know what's going on right now, We don't even know if this is Voldemort's doing - that's only my suspicion -"  
  
"But Professor Lupin, you've never been wrong about these things before," Hermione asserted, her voice quavering.  
  
"I appreciate your confidence in me," he said, amused by her faith. "But I've been wrong many, many times in the past. And this could, indeed, be one of those times. I am only human you know."  
  
Hermione looked at him pointedly.  
  
"All right...well, I'm only human most of the time."  
  
They laughed nervously.  
  
"What I'm saying, Hermione, is that whatever is taking place out there, we're helpless to change it. We've got to sit tight, try not to panic, and hope someone can get through to us, preferably before this doddering old professor bores you to death."  
  
Hermione smiled, looking at him as if he were mad. "Please. You're not boring at all. In fact, I daresay you're my favorite professor. None of the others are nearly as interesting as you. And you're certainly not old!"  
  
"I'm quite flattered, Hermione," Remus said, beginning to feel warm in a dangerous manner. He swallowed hard and again fought to avoid her eyes. "Truth be told, you're my brightest student. I always look forward to having you in class."  
  
He cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
  
**And would you like to know where else I look forward to having you, Miss Granger?  
  
HUSH!**  
  
* * * *  
  
Hours later, it was growing dim outside. No one had yet arrived to Remus and Hermione's rescue. In fact, there were no signs of life at all outside the classroom - no footfalls or chatter ringing through the corridor, no shadows stretching across the floor. Remus had tried again - unsuccessfully - to magic their way out. His idea to shoot a signal from under the door failed as well. The sparks fizzled before they even left his wand, as if some kind of invisible barrier shielded the frame. Such strange goings-on struck Remus as worrisome and he wondered what - if anything - would happen next.  
  
Remus sat on the desk, depositing his robes on a chair as he hopped up beside Hermione. Their physical proximity left him feeling a bit edgy, but he knew Hermione was scared and uncertain and needed some friendly support. After a bit of awkward small talk, Hermione went into an animated spiel about the day's lesson. Remus couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. She was really quite engaging.  
  
Of course, he knew that.  
  
".that's what's so fascinating about the spell - it can be used for good or bad, depending on, you know, the inflection of your voice, the time of day, even the person performing it. You really don't see that kind of duality in modern spells. And the fluidity makes it."  
  
**Brilliant. She's absolutely brilliant.  
  
And beautiful.  
  
The spark in her eyes when her mind is fired up - she's so full of curiosity and hunger, it nearly radiates through her pores.  
  
Does she have any idea?**  
  
Remus gladly engaged her in conversation, as he had so many times before in the relatively public confines of his classroom. So sharp. A professor's (wet?) dream. He could almost forget that she was so young. So much younger, that is, than him.  
  
Hermione seemed to be feeling placated. If she wasn't, she was hiding it as cleverly as Remus had been hiding his mid-lecture erections. Suddenly, she just wanted to talk. In fact, she was avid. If she felt one topic dying, she'd jump to another. The better to keep those fears quietly at bay. The stories about the Marauders and the Potters and young Snape were her favorites. Remus had hardly finished relating one story to her before she was begging him for another. He indulged her happily. Those were perhaps his fondest memories. That was the last time he'd really felt part of something. Ever since then - as before - he remained on the outside sadly looking in as the rest of the world actually lived life. So he always enjoyed revisiting those days. And the stories made Hermione smile. And laugh - brilliantly and beautifully. Though he refused to consciously admit it to himself, he knew he might do just about anything to see her face light up and regard him admiringly.  
  
Hermione, of course, shared her own stories about her and Harry and Ron and their rivalry with the vile Draco Malfoy.  
  
"If you'll allow me to be perfectly honest with you, Hermione," Remus said amiably, a devilish grin crossing his face, "none of the professors can stand him - think he's a smug, insufferable little git. Except Severus. Though he's always been a smug, insufferable git himself."  
  
He looked over at Hermione, who choked back laughter. She turned to him in amusement.  
  
"Professor Lupin! I'm disappointed in you! You forgot liar - Draco's a liar and a phony and a bastard. An absolute bastard."  
  
"You'll please forgive me, Hermione," Remus chuckled. "We professors don't have the pleasure of his company as often as you students do - not if we can help it, at least."  
  
They laughed wickedly. Remus caught Hermione's eye and winked playfully. She blushed bright pink and turned away, laughing quietly into her lap.  
  
"Could I tell you something, Professor Lupin?" she asked, sheepishly.  
  
"Certainly, Hermione"  
  
She bit her lip and laughed to herself, pausing to weigh her words.  
  
"I us-No, it's silly. Never mind."  
  
Remus grinned, his eyes shining lightheartedly. "You have my solemn word that I won't laugh."  
  
Slyly, she looked at him and smiled.  
  
**What was that? In her eyes. That glint. The slightest hint of flirtatiousness?  
  
No, of course no. Don't be silly, Remus.  
  
And, besides, what difference should it make if it was?**  
  
"When you taught here the last time - when I was a third year.I.I h- had a simply desperate crush on you."  
  
Her eyes were aflutter as her cheeks burned crimson.  
  
Remus burned, too.  
  
"See?" Hermione said, interpreting his silence as a defense against laughter. "I told you it was silly. I never told a soul, not even Harry and Ron. ESPECIALLY not Harry and Ron. I'd been infatuated with Professor Lockhart - you know, Gilderoy Lockhart - the year before and Harry and Ron teased me mercilessly. It never would have ended had they found out I had a thing for you. They'd think I had some fetish for DADA professors - or a father complex."  
  
**Father?! Ouch.**  
  
Hermione continued with hardly a breath, "not that I think of you as a father. No - definitely not a father. More like a.a cool older brother. You know? Like Ron's brother Bill: he's really laid-back and friendly and treats us as an odd sort of contemporary. But it's clear he's been places, seen things, really experienced life."  
  
**Experience.  
  
Yes, I've plenty of that and I'd be more than happy to share some of it with you.  
  
Ugh.**  
  
"If you didn't have the best marks in class, Hermione," he teased. "I'd suspect you were trying to curry favor with me."  
  
She stared at him seriously. "Of course not, Professor Lupin! I'm really quite sincere."  
  
Their eyes met again and he held her gaze far longer than he should have.  
  
**Turn away, Remus - unless you want to do something so morally and ethically wrong that you'll doubtless regret it later.  
  
You're taking too long to answer.**  
  
"Well, you are aware that I'm the contemporary of the parents of one of your contemporaries," he reminded her, diverting his eyes to **.that tempting swell of breasts rising from the unbuttoned collar of her oxford.**  
  
"You don't seem like it, though," Hermione said. Her voice drew Remus' eyes away from her chest. "You look very young. - a-and handsome.at least I think so."  
  
**Don't tempt me, girl!**  
  
"You're far too generous, Hermione."  
  
He paused, too many reckless thoughts tempting his mouth.  
  
**Don't say something you're going to be sorry about later.  
  
Just keep your mouth shut and smile.  
  
No trouble.**  
  
"Were you just a few years older, Hermione, and not my student, I think I might be quite smitten with you, as well."  
  
**Or if you smile at me or walk into the classroom or shag your boyfriend or even breathe.  
  
Dammit!!!!**  
  
Hermione giggled and obscured her face behind a veil of golden-brown tresses. Neither knew what to say to the other. Silence fell all about them and landed with resounding discomfort.  
  
Hermione's mind was racing, as was her heart. It suddenly seemed impossible for her to maintain a coherent thought. Her adrenaline was pumping so quickly she felt woozy.  
  
**Did Professor Lupin just.kind of.well.hit on me?! **  
  
She suddenly realized how near he was to her. The warmth from his body was palpable and distracting. She was tempted to surrender to it, but stopped and reminded herself to breathe. Of course she was most fond of Lupin. He was a terrific teacher, a kind person, even a trusted confidante. And, sure, she was keenly aware of his more aesthetically pleasing masculine qualities - the long, strong lines of his torso, his rugged, scarred hands, that tousled graying brown hair. They'd passed through her daydreams occasionally, even with Harry available to keep her mind and body occupied. Who could avoid it when she spent two hours each day watching him masterfully inspire attentiveness and interest in a group of generally unruly teenagers? If there was any such thing as intellectual seduction, Hermione reasoned, Lupin must be the master. But never once did she even begin to imagine she'd find herself in this particular situation - trapped alone with him, weighing whether the life-or-death potential of the moment was enough to abandon reason and acknowledge their latent mutual attraction or simply another bizarre occurrence in an all ready extraordinary world.  
  
Without warning, Remus felt something soft and beguilingly gentle move up his calves. He looked down and saw Hermione's foot pull away hurriedly.  
  
The feeling returned. The warm, tingling feeling of the blood speeding downward from his brain - which was exactly where he needed it right now. The warning lights began blinking red behind his eyes.  
  
"Hermione, I don't mean to make you feel foolish, but I don't think that kind of behavior is appropriate. I'm you're professor. You're my student. We're expected to uphold certain standards of conduct. I'm surprised I even have to tell you that."  
  
Hermione nodded somberly, her hair once again serving as a barrier between them.  
  
"I'm sorry Professor Lupin," she said quietly. "Maybe I'm just looking for some comfort and reassurance after, you know, everything with Harry and - well, this strange situation."  
  
"That's likely-"  
  
"-or maybe you don't talk to me like I'm a child. You don't condescend to me and you don't treat me as if I'm some kind of bossy know-it-all. You feel.kindred. Do you know what I mean?" She turned to him as if having just made the connection herself.  
  
**Girl, you're holding a bomb. You'd best put it down before it explodes on you.  
  
Eh.  
  
Poor choice of words.**  
  
"Yes, Hermione, I believe I know exactly what you mean."  
  
Another uneasy silence stretched between them. Remus felt dangerous. His emotions and his hormones were skimming far too close to the surface and it was becoming ever more difficult to hold them at bay.  
  
"You do impress me, Hermione. I watch you in class sometimes and I don't know whether I should be teaching you or you should be teaching me," he said, laughing quietly. He paused briefly and then regarded her solemnly. "You have a very bright future in front of you. I know it isn't always easy at your age, especially for someone like you. People assume you're a child because of your age. But anyone who takes the time to get to know you, Hermione, knows you clearly have the mind and *ahem* body of a woman."  
  
**Suicide mission! Man the hormones!**  
  
Hermione turned to him, a strange mix of shock, confusion, and relief painting her features. "N-no, it isn't easy. Not at all. I feel so.freakish sometimes. Almost everyone looks at me like I'm of another species."  
  
Remus flashed a sharply wry expression. "I believe I have some experience in that area."  
  
Hermione chuckled. "I suppose you do, don't you?"  
  
Gradually, her lips curled flirtatiously as she looked over at him, "Do you really think I have a womanly body? I-I didn't know you had been looking."  
  
**If only you knew.**  
  
Remus coughed as if choking on his very words. "That was a mistake, Hermione. I shouldn't have said that - well, I mean, that's not what I meant to say."  
  
"But you did," she said, raising her arm and twining her fingers through his thick, shaggy hair.  
  
**Those lovely, delicate fingers.  
  
MELTDOWN APPROACHING!!!  
  
Yes, he thought dreamily, it does feel like melting.**  
  
The sensation was far too pleasurable, far too inviting. The burning in his groin intensified. He stiffened at her touch.  
  
**ABORT IMMEDIATELY!!!**  
  
"Please, Hermione," her admonished her calmly, though not without a great deal of internal effort. "It's entirely unethical for professors to indulge this kind of behavior in students. You must stop or I'm going to be forced to take some kind of recourse against you when we get out of here."  
  
**If we get out of here.**  
  
Hermione pulled her hands into her lap, clasping them tightly. She was, however, still smiling. The subtleties of their exchange had not been lost on her. She noted the tone of tension and defensiveness in his voice, the hesitation in his actions. It was clear he knew what he wanted, but was afraid to take it.  
  
Remus fidgeted as he sat, trying to adjust his slacks so that his erection was as obscured as possible.  
  
**Please don't let her have caught a glimpse of it.  
  
There'll be nothing left of me if she has.**  
  
Silence struck again.  
  
Hermione bit her lip and jiggled her leg nervously. Remus looked around the room, his attention rapt on avoiding the warmth that radiated from her body, the sweet, fresh scent of her hair.  
  
Then a tickle.  
  
No, not a tickle. More of a caress. A very soft touch.  
  
On his thigh.  
  
**CODE RED!!!! Stranger on premises!!! Too near reactive core!!!!**  
  
Remus' walls began to crumble swiftly.  
  
**So she wants a game.  
  
Okay. We'll play!  
  
MELTDOWN COMMENCING!!!**  
  
Remus grasped the wrist near his lap, giving Hermione quite a startle. In one swift, seamless movement, he had leapt from the table, grasped her other wrist, and pushed himself between her legs. He held her wrists far behind her, forcing her to lean backward. Remus bent over her, his hip grinding against her crotch, his face so close to hers he could smell her honeyed lip gloss. Hermione hadn't expected a reaction quite this intense. Her smugness about his emotions transmuted into alarm and confusion. Her head was racing. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"I gave myself to sin  
  
And I've been there and back again  
  
I gave myself to providence  
  
The state that I am in" -Belle and Sebastian  
  
  
  
"Hermione, did I not ask you twice to please not become physical with me?"  
  
Hermione wasn't sure if he was expecting an answer. Either way, for once she felt utterly paralyzed for word and thought.  
  
"Well, did I or didn't I, Hermione?"  
  
His lips hovered directly over hers.  
  
"Y-yes, Professor Lupin," she croaked.  
  
Inwardly, Remus smirked naughtily.  
  
"And did I not, Hermione, inform you mere minutes ago that there were to be repercussions if you disobeyed me?"  
  
"Yes.Yes you did," she answered, fearing what might come next. She'd never seen him behave so wildly, aggressively before. Well, she had once. But he was no werewolf now.  
  
**Does that kind of behavior linger?**  
  
"Now, what do you suggest I do to make sure you don't forget again?"  
  
He nudged his hip closer to her body.  
  
"I-I'm not sure, Professor Lupin."  
  
"All out of ideas, Hermione? That's quite unlike you."  
  
She stared at him blankly.  
  
**And this is quite unlike you, Professor Lupin.**  
  
"Right then. I suppose the punishment should fit the crime. An eye for an eye, right?"  
  
Without waiting for a response, he pressed his mouth to hers hungrily, his tongue sliding across her lips until her mouth opened under him. He sought her mercilessly, exploring the warm, wet recesses of her mouth. Their tongues touched and tangled, sending a rush of electricity pulsing through their bodies. Hermione moaned softly against him. His kisses were urgent, imploring, desperate. He wasn't sure he could get enough of her.  
  
"Profes-"  
  
**No! Bring those lips back to me. I don't think I can breathe without them.**  
  
"Professor Lupin!"  
  
She was breathless and bewildered.  
  
"What's wrong, Hermione? Do you not feel this to be an appropriate punishment?"  
  
She searched his face, half expecting to see fangs protruding from his mouth or an inordinate amount of coarse fur emerging from his skin.  
  
**Are his ears pointier?**  
  
Everything seemed to check out, but something strange was going on.  
  
"What's gotten into you, Professor Lupin?"  
  
**No, no, Hermione. What going to be getting into you?**  
  
Remus smiled wickedly, the urge to scold himself long gone.  
  
"Let the punishment fit the crime. Isn't that what they say, Hermione?"  
  
He shifted slightly, his hardness inadvertently grazing her bare thigh. An expression of realization dawned on her face, joined shortly by a naughty smile.  
  
"Well?" Remus demanded.  
  
Hermione signed thoughtfully.  
  
"You know, Professor Lupin, I've always found it curious that so many people subscribe to the fallacy that in order for one to be logical, they must be dispassionate - and vise versa."  
  
She hooked her index finger into the waist of his slacks and pulled him as close as possible.  
  
"Now, I like to consider myself a highly logical individual," she continued, curling her leg around his and snaking it slowly upward. "Wouldn't you agree, Professor Lupin?"  
  
"Admirably so, Hermione." He slid his hand inside the opening of her shirt and traced the lace edging of her bra.  
  
"Yet I'm also a very passionate person. For instance, if I've set my mind to doing something, there's very little anybody can do to stop me. I'm passionate about learning. I'm passionate about standing up for the things I believe in. And I'm especially passionate about the people I love."  
  
"Yes, I'm well aware of that," Remus smirked, remembering the scene he'd witnessed in the empty classroom.  
  
"So wouldn't you say this theory - that logic and passion cannot co-exist on the same plane - is essentially flawed?" Her lips moved closer as if to kiss him. They parted invitingly, paused, and, as Remus leaned toward her, pulled away.  
  
He shut his eyes and smiled. Bowing his head, he leisurely ran his tongue up her jawline.  
  
"Hermione, I believe you prove that hypothesis impossible," he breathed in her ear.  
  
"Mmm, Professor Lupin, I knew you were well-versed in the Dark Arts, but I had no idea you specialized in this particular dark art," Hermione sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and urging his lips to continue their journey across her flesh. "Though I should have guessed."  
  
"And I, Hermione, thought you far more modest and conservative to participate in this sort of blatant rule breaking," he spoke against her shoulder, "or has Mr. Potter been a bad influence on you?"  
  
She nudged Remus back gently and regarded him with an innocent expression.  
  
"Oh, but I am a modest girl, Professor Lupin. After all, these aren't the most typical circumstances now, are they?"  
  
"No"  
  
"Besides, Harry had quite a time talking me into sex. And, you know, I am somewhat of a perfectionist. Once I decided I was actually going to do it, I wanted to make sure that I was doing it exceptionally well. That, of course, means intensive study. Hours and hours of practice and.examinations."  
  
Hermione wasn't quite sure where all this impulsive flirtatiousness and entendre was coming from. This was Professor Lupin - her teacher. Before now, she would have died of humiliation had she behaved like this in front of anyone - especially a professor. She didn't even speak to Harry in this manner often. Perhaps the heat rising between herself and Remus was beginning to blister her brain. Words were coming out of her mouth that she wasn't even conscious of having thought. Even her body seemed to be moving of its own accord - rubbing, pulling, pressing in ways reserved only for Harry, and even then, she was more subdued. But perhaps that was just the result of familiarity and routine.  
  
She tugged Remus' shirt from his trousers and began to unbutton it.  
  
"I must say, Hermione, I applaud your thoroughness with Harry, but how, then, do you explain this burst of sexual aggression with me?"  
  
Remus began to remove Hermione's shirt, eager to see the flesh that lie beneath it.  
  
"Well, that's the fascinating thing about this particular subject. Now, I could know all there is to know about having sex with Harry, but that doesn't mean I know anything about having sex with you. There are so many different variables. Age. Skill. Uh.size," she slowly looked down to his erection and back at him, her interest clearly piqued. "The possibilities for growth and discovery are endless."  
  
Shrits were gone. Remus easily snapped her bra loose. He eased it off her shoulders to the floor.  
  
There they were.  
  
More beautiful than when he'd spied them before. Perfectly round and at least a handful each, looking as sweet and creamy and tasty as vanilla ice cream on a hot summer's day. Her nipples stood distended and hard, as if awaiting him.  
  
"So is that all I am, Hermione? A case study?"  
  
He grazed his teeth over a nipple before taking it in his mouth and tasting its silky flesh. His hand covered her other breast, tenderly kneading it as he sucked at her body. Hermione rolled her head back listlessly, moaning deeply. She felt the heat between her legs flicker and pulsate. Her back arched slightly and she held his head against her breast, encouraging him to partake further.  
  
"Oh.Professor Lupin, I'm beginning to think you're the case I've been studying for."  
  
**What?!  
  
Where the hell did that come from?! What about Harry?! I love Harry. Lupin's my professor. I've got things all mixed up!**  
  
Remus bit her nipple lightly, teasing it forward in his mouth. The fire licked at her dangerously and she felt her body give way to him.  
  
**Okay, maybe I don't.**  
  
Her hands moved through his hair aimlessly. "See.you-you not only engage my mind, but my body, too - even more than I had ever imagined. You make me respond in ways I didn't realize were possible."  
  
**Where is this stuff coming from? I sound like I've been spending all of my spare time reading cheap romances.  
  
We've been together for a half an hour and suddenly he's the last of the white-hot lovers?!  
  
Of course, I don't ever remember feeling quite like this with Harry.**  
  
Remus raised his head and stared at her ravenously, his chest heaving rapidly. A conflicted expression of love, lust, and hesitation played on his face as he gently stroked her cheek. "We're playing a dangerous game here, Hermione."  
  
"I'm well aware of that, Remus," she said, addressing him informally without even realizing it. She took the hand on her cheek and kissed its palm. "I don't take chances on anything I'm not sure about. I'm sure."  
  
**I am?**  
  
Remus was dumbstruck.  
  
**How is she doing this?  
  
How is this sixteen year old girl - is she really only sixteen? - making me loose sight of everything appropriate and moral?  
  
How is she making me feel like this? All this passion and need and connection - I haven't felt his in a lifetime.  
  
How is she making me feel like having her - in every way possible - is perhaps the most important thing in my life?  
  
Worth even jeopardizing my career.**  
  
She gazed up at him with those endless brown eyes, trying so hard to seem sexy and seductive (and actually succeeding quite a bit), but not able to overshadow the vulnerability and longing that lie there, too. It was enough to make him loose sight of all his senses and simply run off with her and never return to Hogwarts.  
  
With savage-like agility, Remus thrust Hermione down onto the table, pulling her lengthwise. He crawled on top of her slowly, hungrily, as a wolf might approach his prey.  
  
**This, Hermione thought, is the benefit of having a lycanthropic lover.**  
  
Their lips were anxious and clung together, a mindless meshing of tongue, teeth, and mouths, until both were close to suffocation. Remus crushed his hips to Hermione's. She could feel the urgency of his erection press against the bony cleft of her pelvis. The power of her arousal wrenched her from the depths of her stomach, a fluttering fire snaking from her belly to the very nerves that pressed against her panties. It robbed her of breath, reason, and control. She bucked her hips under him and clutched at his bottom, feeling that she might die if she didn't experience his hardness as intimately as possible.  
  
A low groan rumbled in Remus' throat. He nuzzled her neck, his tongue winding its way down the sensitive skin of her throat, the silky curves of her breasts, the quivering slope of her belly. The moist pressure of his lips against her abdomen sent throbbing waves of desire straight to her center. She nudged his head further down her body.  
  
Remus searched her skirt for its clasp, finding it rather easily. Memory had served him well - he'd undone his share of girls' Hogwarts uniforms in his time. The skirt came off quickly.  
  
Just the panties.  
  
Hermione bit her lip, feeling herself grow hotter, wetter, madder by the minute. Remus, however, tempered by the pleasure of seeing and feeling her react to his lingering strokes, was in no hurry. He eased his finger beneath the elastic of her white satin panties and drifted it back and forth across her lower belly. Her flesh trembled at his light, teasing touch. Remus' fingers slithered playfully, temptingly lower, but stopped short of the explosive heat between her legs. Hermione squirmed in agony and made a small whimper. He ventured further, finally descending over the satin fabric that covered her sex. It was soaked with excitement.  
  
He smiled and looked up at her.  
  
"A little impatient, aren't we, Hermione?"  
  
"I could say the same for you," she said thickly, sliding her leg against his erection.  
  
"Touché"  
  
He slid her panties off.  
  
**There she is. Not just a peek this time.  
  
Everything.  
  
I don't know how it could be possible to grow any harder, but I'm almost certain I just did.**  
  
He lowered himself and brushed her thighs with velvety kisses. Hermione was close to writhing in sweet torture on the table.  
  
**Further. Further.**  
  
Her hands grasped at his hair, begging him to hasten himself.  
  
**Further. Further.  
  
FURTHER!  
  
Ah, yes.here.right here.**  
  
Hermione drew in a sharp breath as Remus lightly skimmed her opening with his tongue and then plunged a finger deep inside her. Remus marveled at how wet she was for him as he caressed the slick folds of her sex. He wanted to taste her, to feel her juices spill warm and fast against his tongue. She groaned unhappily as he moved his touch from her, but responded with a gasp as his tongue forged a path inside her. She urged him forward with frantic hands as he clutched her hips. He was merciless, lapping at her and pursuing her deepest aches with a probing flick of his tongue.  
  
**Oh god, why did Harry never do it like this?!**  
  
There were sounds coming from Hermione that she'd never made before. They were harsher, deeper, instinctual.  
  
**He's doing this too well.**  
  
"Stop," she said, gulping breathlessly and straining to back away from his powerful hold.  
  
He looked up at her with a slight panic, concerned she'd either changed her mind or had finally grown uncomfortable with the inappropriateness of the situation.  
  
"You almost, uh, ended things," she blushed. "I-I want you inside of me when.when I come for the first time with you.It's silly, but.well.it's just more meaningful"  
  
Remus felt the breath had been knocked out of him. The thought - the implication - was almost too powerful to stand. To see the words come from her mouth, to see the sudden rush of modesty and vulnerability streak across her face, was both physically and emotionally stirring. Something more than sex was transpiring between them. The connection was far more than skin deep.  
  
He sat up on his knees and hastily undid his belt and slacks. Hermione put her hand on his and stopped him again.  
  
"Can I?" she asked, timidly.  
  
Remus dropped his hands to his sides.  
  
"Please do," his voice was deep and resonant.  
  
Hermione rose to her knees in front of him -  
  
**Didn't I have a fantasy like this somewhere along the line? Remus thought, his mind only half-functioning.**  
  
-- and pushed his pants down his legs. They were firm and lightly muscled. Her hands ran over the thin layer of sandy hair the covered his thighs, fingered the small scars that marked his skin. His body fascinated her and she longed to see more. She eased his boxers from his hips with a hot flurrying of her stomach. Curiosity and expectation consumed her.  
  
**Wow.**  
  
It was bigger than Harry's  
  
**Definitely bigger than Harry's - not that Harry was small, but.Wow.**  
  
She was lightheaded with desire. His arousal jutted toward her, substantial in both length and girth. She gaped at him wordlessly, and then, realizing how inexperienced and foolish she must appear, lowered her gaze back to his hardness. Hermione never backed down from a challenge. Every new skill, after all, was another opportunity to widen one's horizons (and Hermione now felt certain she would be experiencing some "widening" that evening) Yet while she was certainly enticed, a hint of intimidation crept into her. She'd never felt more like a little girl in her entire life. Something about her intimate moments with Harry seemed vaguely like child's play now. What did she know about indulging the pleasures of the flesh? This - this was wild and electric. There was something animal about the physical aggression and unapologetic frankness of his desire. It was unrestrained and dangerous - distinctly adult.  
  
**Well.a girl has to grow up sometime.**  
  
Hermione felt compelled to taste the all ready responsive flesh of his sex. Would he taste the same as Harry?  
  
**Oh, but I need him inside of me. The sooner, the better.  
  
Just a taste.**  
  
She leaned forward and let her tongue glide about his testicles and up the underside of his shaft and head a couple of time.  
  
He released a rumbling, jagged sigh and moaned quietly as Hermione sat back on her elbows, awaiting the weight of his body. Remus looked nearly out of control with pleasure, his eyes hooded in uncontained yearning. It was enough of an aphrodisiac to last her well into next term.  
  
"You're going to be trouble, aren't you, girl?" Remus growled, creeping atop her seductively.  
  
"If you play your cards right."  
  
He came at her voraciously, his mouth assaulting her with hard, raw kisses. He gently eased her flat on to her back with the pressure of his lips. She matched his fervor, a torrent of force and insatiable hunger driving her kisses. She bit his lower lip and curled her tongue about his. They sought each other until their lips were swollen and red.  
  
Remus pulled away and regarded her with a stunned sort of intensity.  
  
"I have never wanted anyone so badly in my entire life."  
  
He raised himself up and plunged his erection into her with abandon. Hermione cried out - half in pleasure, half in pain. She was small and tight around Remus' sizable member. Her body seized him firmly and he grunted at the intensity of pleasure it brought him. Hermione's taut inner flesh stung as it stretched around his unfamiliar girth and she whimpered quietly. Remus kissed her and, though nearly mad to bore himself into the snug grasp of her sex, tempered the speed and force of his thrusts until she had grown accustomed to his size. The folds of her body began to contour themselves to him unyieldingly and her noises became purely those of enjoyment.  
  
Remus pushed himself up on his hands, forcing his hips closer to hers. As he sunk deeper into her, his rhythm increased. She surrendered to the reckless impulses of her body. Her hips clung to his, moving and thrusting with him instinctively. The circular sweep of her pelvis seemed to give him access to delicious corners of her inner body and he knew where to go almost immediately. He discovered areas Harry hadn't even detected. Areas full of sweet nerves and responsive flesh. And he knew to stay, persist, tease.  
  
"Oh Professor Lupin," Hermione purred without awareness. Remus smiled at her sudden, accidental reversal to formalities, finding it quite arousing.  
  
He lowered himself until his body covered hers again and brought his lips to her neck, her ear, her cheek, her mouth. She drew her legs around his hips and nudged him deeper inside her. As the speed and heat of their motions increased, the physical pressure between them mounted to a nearly intolerable degree. Hermione's excitement grew steadily. The sensations seemed to direct her actions involuntarily. She began to flex the muscles that surrounded his shaft, contracting around him each time he thrust himself into her.  
  
"Ahhh, yes." he murmured deeply. She squeezed harder and looked into his face. He seemed completely lost in sensation. His lips parted and he quivered slightly, plunging again and again into the most delicate place inside her.  
  
Yes.yes.keep going, Remus.there.harder.one last time.  
  
Her entire body quaked uncontrollably as the mounting pressure began to uncoil and spin wildly within her. She was helpless to the feverish seizure of her muscles and succumbed to the vibrations shooting through her body. Grasping him as tightly as she could manage, her raised hips forced his erection against the throbbing source of her ecstasy. She rocked it against him again and again. Her breathing quickened, dissolving into agonizing gasps and cries. She fisted her hands in his hair, her knuckles white with intensity, and strained against him.  
  
Remus watched her come while tightly wrapped in his arms. Come because of him. That sweet, beautiful, intelligent girl -**no, woman!** - who sat in his class and responded to all his questions and seemed positively too good to be true lay here under him, in rapture, orgasming against him.  
  
Remus could hold himself back no more. He felt his body seize as he thrust into her one last time. His climax jolted through him so violently, he wondered if he would have any strength left when it was over. It was explosive. Waves of sensation assaulted him, his body jerking with each surge. He drove himself into her fiercely, desperate to feel his pulsing member consumed by her body. He could only see her beautiful face and repeat her name mindlessly until it began to fade, leaving him spent. He fell helplessly into her arms, his face sweaty, his hair damp, his heart and his body calmed and contented. She held him, knowing she never wanted to let go, as they both drifted into slumber. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Awaken Me By Evenstar496  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"This night is mine It's only you and I Tomorrow Is a long time away This night can last forever  
  
I've been around Someone like me should know better Falling in love Would be the worst thing I could do  
  
This night You're mine It's only you and I I'll tell you To forget yesterday This night we are together" -Billy Joel  
  
  
  
  
  
When Remus awoke, it was still evening. He didn't know if the locks had been undone and it vaguely occurred to him that he didn't give a damn. His head was pillowed against Hermione's soft stomach. Everything else seemed irrelevant.  
  
**She's still here.  
  
It wasn't a dream.**  
  
She was warm and soft and real. Her long, slim arms draped around him tenderly.  
  
**God, I never want to move again. I'll give everything I have to live here forever, buried in her flesh and form.**  
  
He could feel her heartbeat pulse steadily against his ear, hear the gentle inhale and exhale of her breath. The proof of her existence felt like the very validation of his own. When did his universe begin to revolve so perilously around this girl? His student.  
  
**What's happening to me? Why on earth can I think of nothing but Hermione?  
  
I thought perhaps the sex might purge her from my system, but now I'm twice as taken with her.  
  
Is it possible this is more than attraction, more than a silly, misguided infatuation?** He pondered, noting that he couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt so thoroughly contented.  
  
**I have no answers - maybe there are none -  
  
I've lived in the concrete and logical for so many years - Apart from the werewolf, I don't think I know how to run on instinct anymore.  
  
I'm not even sure I'd want to if I did - but I am sure I want her.**  
  
His mind could register little but wonder and gratitude at this unexpected fortune. He couldn't look at her without feeling the impulse to envelop her in his body, smother her in kisses, and slide his fingers across her responsive flesh. In his most fantastic fantasies, he'd never dared to consider this particular reality. But as he lay against her, he felt he'd finally found a home in the affection of her gaze and the warmth of her body. Indeed, it held promise as a safe, strong residence, one that would not suddenly lock its doors against him and force him away. Not since his school days at Hogwarts had he felt so stunningly alive.  
  
Hermione sighed softly in her sleep and stirred nearer to him, as if his thoughts had found their way into her dreams. He raised himself up slightly, careful to avoid disturbing her too much, and studied her. Her head lay slanted to one side and a slight smile played at the corners of her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered occasionally, long lashes dancing in correspondence. Remus was certain a glow radiated from her pallid skin.  
  
"I didn't think she could be any *more* alluring," he whispered, drawn to the tranquility of her features.  
  
Remus drifted nearer to her lips and hovered hesitantly over them for a moment. He gave her a scarce kiss, hoping to avoid disrupting her slumber, but she made a noise and stretched slightly as he watched her. Her eyes opened tentatively, and Hermione happily found herself in the midst of Remus' penetrating gaze.  
  
She smiled sleepily.  
  
"Mmmm - hi," she said, yawning.  
  
**Please let him be real - please let him be real-**  
  
"Hi," he replied. "Sorry to wake you."  
  
"No worry," Hermione said, rising stiffly from the hardwood desk. "I think I prefer this to my dreams,"  
  
She raised a hand to his cheek and caressed it.  
  
**Oh, praise the gods! He is real - and I can touch him and feel him and smell him - and-**  
  
He kissed her again and this time her lips met his eagerly. Hardly breathing, they sought each other hungrily, their appetites for each other not nearly quenched. After several minutes, Remus tore himself away. His eyes were misty as he drank in her loveliness. She blushed slightly under his scrutiny.  
  
"Have you any idea how beautiful you are?"  
  
Hermione reddened with embarrassment. She made a dismissive noise and tried to turn her head away, but he'd brought his hand to her chin and refused to let her escape his view.  
  
"I never had you pegged as a sentimentalist," she demurred, giving in to his persistent attention.  
  
"I'm full of surprises," he grinned.  
  
"I noticed," she said, her hand passing briefly over his awakening erection.  
  
Eyelids sinking indulgently, he gave a breathy laugh and struggled to focus on something other than pouncing on her and insisting she finish the job she'd just started.  
  
**Have some control, Remus. You've already defiled her once tonight. Give her a rest - then lay into her.**  
  
"Here, it's your turn," he said, settling himself on his back again. "Curl up against me."  
  
She did so eagerly, glad to press her cheek to his firm chest and lay encircled in his arms. Words fell away as they lay quietly, both complete in the closeness of the other. Remus' hands explored her back, thrilling at the delicacy of her smooth skin against his, while Hermoine's fingers traveled the soft terrain of his chest, taking in every hair and slight scar with a sort of reverence. Her slim legs tangled with his.  
  
"Remus?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What happened tonight?"  
  
**We shagged. It was fun. Nothing more - no, no, no, no - nothing more.  
  
Quit fooling yourself, Remus, you'll have to face your feelings eventually.  
  
Eventually, but not now.**  
  
"Between us?" he asked blankly.  
  
"No, between Hagrid and McGonagall," she said, sarcasm sharp in her voice. She smirked up at him.  
  
"Watch your tone, Miss Granger," Remus said in mock severity. "Don't forget, I'm still your professor."  
  
"What are you going to do? Punish me? You tried that earlier - I found it rather enjoyable."  
  
She stretched her hand down Remus' thigh and leisurely drew it back up again, his muscles flexing gently at her touch.  
  
"*Rather* enjoyable?"  
  
"Well, I've always found it wise to leave room for improvement. I'd hate to see you get so confident in your abilities that you quit trying as - uh - hard," she teased, delving her fingers into the shock of light hair surrounding his ever hardening member.  
  
"I promise you that will NEVER be a problem," he grinned.  
  
He leaned toward Hermione and kissed her forehead. She brought her hand to his belly, her fingers tenderly intermingling with his and turned to him soberly.  
  
"Seriously, Remus, what happened tonight?"  
  
He sighed.  
  
"Hermione, if I had the answer to that question we probably wouldn't be rolling about the room naked. Had I known or understood any of this, I would have stopped it. But I don't remember processing much of anything this evening. My brain's been absent for several hours."  
  
"Uh-huh - It's not as painful as I'd thought."  
  
"Painful, no. Scary, yes."  
  
"Scary?"  
  
"I'm old and set in my ways. My habits sustain me. Deviating from them sets me all off balance and that's not so easy to regain at my age."  
  
"Oh, stop it. You talk like you're on your deathbed. Why do you keep insisting that you're old?"  
  
"Well - frankly, I only feel half alive most of the time."  
  
"Because you're a werewolf?"  
  
"Indirectly - my lifestyle dictates that certain experiences will always be denied me. I'm your proverbial beast in a cage, watching the rest of the world enjoy a life I'll never know."  
  
Hermione was quiet for a moment, reflecting on his comments.  
  
"Do you feel awfully isolated?" she asked, quietly.  
  
"Yes," he said. The warmth had nearly dropped out of his voice, leaving behind an uncomfortable tone of gravity.  
  
"I do, too."  
  
"You don't seem like it."  
  
"That's because I'm just used to it and - well, you do the math - I'm an only child, I'm too smart for my own good, and I grew up a witch in the Muggle world. I've always been the freak, the loser, the weirdo. I've never been like other kids. I never even had friends until I came here."  
  
"You carry yourself like someone who's completely satisfied with life."  
  
"So do you, Remus. All of the students love you. You're the friendliest, most popular professor at Hogwarts. I don't think I've ever seen you without a smile on your face and that funny sparkle in your eyes."  
  
"I'm a fine actor when I have to be."  
  
"Exactly. How do you think I learned to be such an obstinate, bossy know-it-all?"  
  
He snorted softly.  
  
"What about Harry and Ron? The three of you might as well be sown together at your collective hips."  
  
"Oh god, no!" she said, horrified. "They're the only real friends I've ever had and I love them desperately, but there are things about me that even they will never understand. After all, they didn't much care for me when we first met - granted, I was a little high-strung in those days. That first meeting kind of set the standard for the three of us. I've always felt slightly set apart from them. Harry and Ron go off and have fun and I stick around the common room to do school work. I don't think they'll ever comprehend that I'm studious because I *like* to learn. It's not a chore for me."  
  
She sighed wearily.  
  
"Of course, I've been an odd duck my entire life," she continued. "No friends. No brothers or sisters. Just my thoughts and my books. They're really my closest companions bec-"  
  
"-Because books won't judge you or look at you funny or abandon you."  
  
Hermione, craning her neck around to gape at Remus, was taken aback by his uncanny ability to predict her thoughts.  
  
"So you're taking lessons from Trelawney now, are you? 'Have you made contact with your inner eye, Remus dear?'" Hermione said, mimicking the Divinity professor's wispy, melodramatic speech.  
  
Remus laughed and tweaked her nose. She scrunched up her face, giggling with him.  
  
"Thank god, no. I've yet to develop any extrasensory skills. Though if I ever do, I suspect I'll keep that from her -- unless she already knows," he deadpanned.  
  
"I'm not holding my breath, thank you - Still, I'm impressed. You were dead on."  
  
"I know a thing or two about being the strange kid who sits inside all day and reads. Actually, life really hasn't changed all that much," he said derisively.  
  
"Are you very unhappy?"  
  
"It's really not a matter of happy or unhappy. I've grown accustomed to my options in life. As long as I have a warm place to sleep, food to eat, and students to teach I'm quite content."  
  
"You don't ever want anything more than that?"  
  
"At one time I did. But when you transform into a flesh-eating beast every month, you learn rather quickly that seeking anything more than stability guarantees disappointment. You have to appreciate what you have. Besides, when you've gone long enough without something, you forget why you wanted it in the first place."  
  
Hermione pursed her lips and arched her eyebrow with glaring skepticism.  
  
"Is that really how you feel or is that what you tell yourself to get through the day?"  
  
"Does it matter?" He released a mild sigh, exasperated by her trademark inquisitiveness. "No one gets hurt and life goes on peacefully. Why ask for trouble?"  
  
As usual, her perceptive skills were razor-sharp. It made Remus uneasy. He wasn't in the mood to have Hermione probing his deepest, darkest depths in hopes of exposing all of his hidden and unpleasant truths.  
  
"You tell me - after all, you *are* my professor and we *did* just have the most heated sex I've ever experienced. What do you call that?"  
  
He was uncomfortably silent.  
  
**Complete hypocrisy, Hermione - That's what I call it.  
  
I'm a fake, a phony, an imitation of another man who died long ago.  
  
Is that what you want to hear?  
  
Trust me, girl, denial is terribly underrated as a means of survival.**  
  
"Remus?"  
  
"Yes?" he replied, hesitantly.  
  
"When was the last time you were in love?"  
  
"I don't know." Remus answered, sounding put-upon. "Probably a decade ago."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I haven't cared to complicate my life in that fashion again," he asserted with finality.  
  
"Why? Did she break your heart? Did she die?"  
  
He was becoming annoyed.  
  
**This is what I get for lusting after Hogwarts' teen prodigy-**  
  
"Because, like every woman I've cared for, she conveniently lost interest in me right around the time she discovered my dirty little secret," he said with an edge.  
  
"Who was she?"  
  
"Hermione, why on earth do you need to know every gory detail of my pitiful love life?" he snapped slightly.  
  
"Because I'm curious and I want to understand you," she said matter- of-factly, then paused, and went on quietly, "And I want to understand you because I care-"  
  
His aggravation began to diminish. Though he said nothing initially, he soon found himself disarmed by her earnestness.  
  
"She was a girl I'd gone to school with here," he answered grudgingly. "We spent a lot of time together - just as friends. I was reunited with her many years later when we were teaching at the same school and we became involved. I actually managed to keep the truth from her for several months before she became suspicious and started asking questions."  
  
"And you loved her?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
"More than all the others?"  
  
"I wouldn't say that. It - it was simply a case of one disappointment too many. I had to give up the game and face reality if I wanted to save myself."  
  
**So why am I lining myself up before the executioner again?**  
  
Remus sounded so somber Hermione began to regret her intrusiveness.  
  
"I'm sorry, Remus," she said, barely above a whisper. "I need to learn when let things drop. It's really none of my business."  
  
Her face was mournful and sincere as she looked up at him, rendering him incapable of remaining irritated with her.  
  
"For god's sake, Hermione we're lying here naked. It seems a bit silly to start splitting hairs about what's private and what's not."  
  
She grinned. "I suppose you do have a point."  
  
Another stretch of silence.  
  
"Remus?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Was it good? Tonight?"  
  
He gazed into her brown eyes. They were tremulous with uncertainty and unnerved him as they searched his face with raw, unrestrained emotion. No one had looked at him that way in years. He wanted so badly to let go and freefall into this whirlwind of passion and vitality.  
  
But something held him back. Terror. He was unfazed by their nude bodies lying there, but this undressed emotional state was far too perilous.  
  
**Someone could get hurt and it will undoubtedly be me.  
  
I'm not sure I can cope with losing another person I love.  
  
You're with her now, Remus. It's too late to undo anything. Enjoy this night and worry about it later.  
  
You'll regret it if you let this moment slip.**  
  
"Was it good?" he considered in a frank tone of voice. "No-"  
  
Hermione turned away in shame and struggled to climb from the desk.  
  
**I can't believe he just came out and said it like that - he could have a bit more tact.  
  
I should have known better - what could I possibly give an experienced man when I've only ever known Harry intimately?  
  
Maybe I can just hide in a dark corner until we're set free from this place. Maybe he'll just ignore me.**  
  
Rising, Remus took her arm and pulled her back. He brought a hand to her face, compelling her to look at him. She frantically evaded his eyes, hoping he wouldn't spy the tears nearly brimming over hers.  
  
"Hermione, listen.look at me, please."  
  
She refused. Remus drew his face nearer to her pained profile.  
  
"It was *unbelievable*."  
  
She turned to him dumbfounded, her eyes flashing with nervous hope.  
  
"Do you mean that?" she demanded.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hermione released a short, relieved sob, a few tears speeding down her face. She studied him tenderly and then punched him hard on the arm.  
  
"That's for trying to be clever and completely humiliating me in the process," she said with good-natured aggravation.  
  
Remus acted injured, massaging the spot where Hermione's fist had landed and giving her a pitiful expression.  
  
"And this," she said, her arms encircling his waist. "is for everything else."  
  
**It's so powerful.  
  
Can he feel it, too?  
  
Why is it so damned powerful?  
  
Things are coming at me too fast, too soon and I can't make it stop.  
  
It's like drowning, but I'm not dying.  
  
No - I'm being reborn.**  
  
Her lips brushed against the sensitive skin below his ear. Hermione heard him breathe a rough sigh, his body slackening against her.  
  
"Why don't you let me have another go?" she suggested in a soft voice. "'Unbelievable' is good, but 'unimaginable' would be a bit better. You know how I always strive to push my limits."  
  
Her fingers slid down his abdomen and closed around his hardening shaft. Her grip firm, she slowly pumped him, his member straining powerfully in her fist. A rumbling, guttural howl escaped Remus' lips and he felt Hermione smile against his neck as her fingers crept back up to his chest.  
  
"If you don't do something soon, Hermione," Remus said through a tense grin, his eyes blazing and his breathing noticeably ragged, "I refuse to be held responsible for my actions."  
  
"Is that a yes, Remus?" she asked innocuously, gently dragging her nail over his nipple.  
  
"Mm-Hmm," was the best reply Remus could manage as he shuddered lightly at her teasing touch.  
  
Her lips lingered as close as possible to his ear and she asked in her smoothest, most pleasing voice, "Are you sure now, Remus? I hate to be a bother."  
  
Eliminating any and all doubt, he thrust his hand into the thick mess of curls at the nape of her neck and crushed her mouth to his. Hermione sidled up to him and pressed her hand to his chest, pushing him prone against the desk. He settled with a grunt, smoldering in the heat of her aggression. Her lithe form bent over him, hungry to plunge her tongue into the depths of his mouth and taste him fully. As they devoured each other in frenzied kisses, her breasts swayed gently, their stony tips trailing feather-light strokes across his chest.  
  
Hermione strayed lower, exploring the flesh of his chin and neck with a roaming tongue, pausing to suck hungrily at his Adam's apple. Her mouth slid to his chest, nipples standing erect and straining from his body. Her lips closed around one, savoring the mild, salty flavor of his skin. She flicked and sucked at him, delighted to hear his quiet, pleasured murmurings. Traveling on, she bathed him in the warm, winding motions of her tongue, descending down his rib cage to his belly and back up again.  
  
He shivered softly, hands in her hair, urging her back to his lips. As she obliged, she moved her leg over him and straddled him at the waist. Remus shifted immediately to accommodate her weight, his body galvanized by her dexterity. She spread her hands flat against his chest and elevated herself, straight-backed and proud, like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her eyes narrowed toward him and intensity fixed her features. A mischievous smile spread across her face. Remus could feel his desire rising rapidly at the sight of the small, sinuous figure presiding over him in scheming confidence.  
  
"I always did like being on top," she said thoughtfully, the soft curves of her breast supple and prominent against her slender torso. "Top of my class, top of my game, top of my professor."  
  
She flashed an impish smile then glanced over her shoulder and around his body, apparently perplexed.  
  
"Now, how do you work this thing?"  
  
They laughed.  
  
"I've no doubt you can master it Miss Granger," Remus teased. "The parts fit together quite nicely. Give it a try."  
  
"Hmm," she played along, again looking around her as if confused. "Let me see -"  
  
Moving back over his pelvis, Hermione grasped his erection and positioned herself above it. She descended gradually, haltingly over him, his head parting her body open and his shaft occupying her void with devastating fullness.  
  
"Hermione -" he moaned, feeling the tight, hot inner flesh of her body swallow him whole. His eyelids sagged with pleasure.  
  
She shivered at his blissful response, yet chuckled quietly to know she had such power over him. Baring down, she gently rocked her hips around him. He moved deeper inside of her, disturbing and provoking the sensitive nerves that awaited his arousal. His pulsing motions caused her sex to throb and burn and grow slick. Hips arched with eager stokes and Hermione found it difficult to maintain any kind of restraint. She rode him vigorously, her body rising nearly off his erection then slamming back down around it, mad to drive him into her most reactive pockets of flesh. Remus' hands, strong and masterful, went to her waist. He helped guide her thrusts, easing her up and pulling her back down with increasing force. A small, throaty sound escaped her lips, assuring Remus that their joint efforts were successful. Her body rode faster and his hands pulled stronger. She threw her head back wildly, long hair flying all around her, nails baring into his chest, and breasts bouncing freely. Pure pleasure swept through her. She felt like she was dying a sweet death, his length stabbing into her over and over and over, the wound only more gratifying with each blow.  
  
**Drowning-  
  
Yes - drowning - a nice way to go-**  
  
"Hermione," Remus panted. "Lean forward a bit."  
  
She inclined toward him, his head straining up to meet her lips in a breathless kiss.  
  
As her torso tilted, his member shifted within her, striking an unquestionable bulls eye and producing a stunning ripple of pleasure in her loins. She moaned in approval as she and Remus pounded mercilessly into each other. Hands blindly cupped and groped her breasts. Her body, still held up with palms pressed to his chest, jerked forward with every beat of their grinding bodies.  
  
The hot, white light began to radiate behind her eyes. She rose atop him again and arched her back severely, responding to the explosive sensations beginning to resonate through her body. Crying out in ecstasy, her head sank backward, curls hanging almost to the desk, and her neck curved forward dramatically. Remus brought his hands to her torso, both to support her as she frantically flung her body backwards, and to hold her tight against him as he anticipated his own orgasm. He felt her tremble against his grasp and he began to shake with her, his body succumbing to the flickering fires that burned hotter and hotter in his loins. The pounding rhythms tore through him from within. His climax moved him mindlessly and he bore himself into her with little spastic thrusts. Together they pushed and throbbed and quaked.  
  
She collapsed against him as their bodies quieted. Remus, weak from fatigue, held her limply, his mind suddenly running frantic with thoughts.  
  
**I love her - I want her - rules be damned - I'll have her.  
  
She's made you lose control - she's disarmed you completely - imagine the damage she could do if you indulged your desire for her regularly - you'll lose yourself in this girl - you'll lose your mind.  
  
She's a child - you're a toy - another game to keep her entertained - you're nothing to her - she'll let you think she's all yours and then she'll tire of you and move on.  
  
You're old and emotionally stunted - how could you make a girl like her happy - she's beautiful - she could have any boy or man she wanted - and she probably will - you're a fool if you think you can hold on to her.  
  
But go ahead - be her puppy dog and follow after her pathetically - just don't say you weren't warned when she breaks your heart like all the others.**  
  
"Remus, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, regarding him with concern. "You're shaking."  
  
**I'm scared, Hermione-  
  
Please help me - please save me-**  
  
She slid her hands up and down his arms hoping to ease his tremors, but she couldn't calm him. He cleared his throat and gave her a sheepish smile.  
  
"I'm just starting to feel a bit chilly. That's all," he lied.  
  
"Do you want your robes? I can cover us up with it."  
  
"Okay."  
  
With a tinge of fear and sadness, he felt her warm weight leave him. Naked and alone, he stared at the ceiling, trying to calm his inner voices. He could hear her feet shuffle across the cold floor, yank his robes from the table where he'd set them, and shuffle back. Before he knew it, she reappeared over him, flinging the tattered but warm material on top of them.  
  
**Thank you, love, but that only bandages the wound.  
  
I need to be healed -  
  
Please heal me, love - please - Hermione -**  
  
"How's that?" she asked, looking down at him protectively.  
  
"Better," he whispered hoarsely, enfolding her in his arms as she again settled down against him.  
  
"Good."  
  
Her eyelids fell shut and before long he could feel the steady breath of sleep blow gently upon his chest.  
  
**Please - just go to sleep - you can worry about it tomorrow - sleep - sleep - sleep - sleep.**.  
  
Remus remembered nothing after that. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Awaken Me By Evenstar496  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"In every heart there is a room A sanctuary safe and strong To heal the wounds from lovers past Until a new one comes along  
  
I spoke to you in cautious tones You answered me with no pretense And still I feel I said too much My silence is my self defense  
  
And every time I've held a rose It seems I only felt the thorns And so it goes, and so it goes And so will you soon I suppose" -Billy Joel (yes, again)  
  
  
  
Remus awoke in the pallor of early morning sunlight. It cast the room in a stark, depressing sterility.  
  
Or perhaps that was just how Remus perceived it. His mind had become a weighty, unwanted instrument and suddenly everything appeared stark and depressing - and dangerous - to him.  
  
He glanced down at Hermione, nestled happily in his arms. She was pressed to his side, her leg slung across his thighs, her arm extended across his belly, her hand lightly clutching him. He desperately searched her for some terrible flaw - something he'd overlooked in his frantic passion. Just a mar or deformity or asymmetry - a loophole through which he could legitimately nullify the reckless abandon and overwhelming emotion he'd exhibited to her. Anything. Perhaps the dim glow of the moon had accentuated only her attractive qualities and obscured her imperfections. But much to Remus' disappointment, he found she was no less striking in the revealing glare of daylight than in the soft shadows of night.  
  
His reality was accurate and inescapable.  
  
Thus, in rapid-motion flashes, his mind replayed the previous evening's events. His recollections were vivid and precise and they made his stomach lurch violently.  
  
**No -  
  
She's seen too much. She's come too close to all the bruises and broken bones - the ones that never healed - the ones that scream out in agony when they're mishandled - the ones I've managed to conceal - sometimes even forget.  
  
The need, the weakness, the vulnerability, the emotion - She caught a glimpse of it all - I knew it - I let her -  
  
God, it just seemed natural - I didn't even think about it - She's so like me, she almost seems a part of me -  
  
What she does to me - her penetration of my soul is deep and effortless.  
  
If I continue-if I let her all the way in and show her every bit of me - she'll want me all the more, she'll set out to heal my wounds with her unrelenting devotion.  
  
And I'll love her for it - along with so many other things.  
  
I'll love her, damn it. There's not a question in my mind -hell, I could love her in my sleep.  
  
And that's when it becomes a problem.  
  
I'll want her with me all the time. I'll crave her as an oasis in the desert when she's away. I'll trust her fidelity and believe her promises of forever. I'll grow strong - secure and confident in myself and her love. Her integration into my soul will be complete. She will inhabit my brain and flow through my veins.**  
  
**And for all those reasons, she terrifies me,** he fretted, carefully disengaging himself from Hermione and climbing off the desk. **I fear, if the worst were to happen, she would break me so completely I'd be shattered beyond repair.**  
  
As he searched the classroom for his clothes, guilt and shame joined with fear to create a dark trilogy of despair in his mind. Hermione had trusted him as a professor, a mentor, and he'd overstepped his bounds in the worst way. What kind of a teacher took advantage of his position in such a blatant manner?  
  
He dressed quietly, grimly, his emotions mad with confusion. Wants, needs, fears, obligations all rioted and collided within him.  
  
**Last night was one hell of an evening - never felt anything quite like it in my life -  
  
Which is why I MUST forget it -  
  
--Because I know - I've experienced it - emotions of that intensity can turn in a heartbeat and cut you when you're not looking.**  
  
Hermione, feeling gradually chillier in Remus' absence, awoke with a start when she realized he was no longer beside her. Sitting up with a bolt, she eyed him standing by the door fixing his shirt and throwing on his robes. She drew her knees to her chest and beamed at him.  
  
"Morning all ready? I hated to see last night end."  
  
Remus smiled uncomfortably.  
  
"You should get dressed, Hermione."  
  
He gathered up her clothes and handed them to her. She took them hesitantly, a look of concern on her face.  
  
"Is everything all right?" she asked.  
  
He studied her distractedly for a moment and then replied tersely, "Of course. It's just best that we try to get out of here as soon as possible."  
  
He paused.  
  
"I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel quite hungry," he added as an afterthought, trying to amend the brisk tone of his previous statement.  
  
"Yes, I am rather famished," she concurred as she pulled on her uniform. "Although after last night it's no wonder."  
  
A wicked smile curved across her face.  
  
Remus' body stiffened and he anxiously cleared his throat.  
  
"Hopefully the locks have been undone by now," he said, moving toward the door and tugging the handle. The door opened easily and he sighed in relief.  
  
"Well, that's much better. Free at last, right?" Remus said cheerfully.  
  
Hermione looked slightly wounded by the remark. A twinge of regret struck Remus and he inwardly cursed himself for having been so callous.  
  
**Please tell me that what I think is happening isn't really happening,** Hermione groaned internally, hovering on the verge of alarm.  
  
She strode over and leaned into him cozily, reaching up to kiss him. For a moment, Remus lost himself in emotion. His body went hot and began to soften, drifting toward her.  
  
**Yes, Hermione - I want to pull you against my body and feel every part of you against every part of me. I want to feel the sweet softness of your lips glide across mine, the heat that surges between us when we drag our tongues against each other - Yes - Let's give ourselves to one another all over again - I want you, beautiful gir-**  
  
He became aware of his actions and nervously edged away.  
  
Hermione stared at him, her eyes cloudy with confusion.  
  
"Hermione, we can't continue this behavior," he said firmly. "It's totally inappropriate. I'm your professor. I'm old enough to be your father. I cannot be your lover."  
  
Hermione glared at him defiantly but said nothing. Remus resumed his internal struggle. It destroyed him to behave as if the passion and vitality between them never existed. His remorse was twofold with the knowledge that he was hurting Hermione - and after she'd only just been hurt by Harry. He knew he would do almost anything in the world to keep her from pain. Almost. His fear proved greater than his allegiance to Hermione. And it certainly terrified him to have her so near, to gaze into her eyes and see his own future - his very life - reflected so precariously in her chestnut-colored pupils.  
  
"Please, Hermione, you did nothing wrong," he said, taking her hand tenderly. She pulled it away hastily, her features rigid with resentment.  
  
"I'm well aware I did nothing wrong," she snapped. "In fact, I apparently did something quite right, because you're beside yourself with fear all of a sudden."  
  
Remus shook his head in disagreement but somehow couldn't speak to defend himself.  
  
"I scare you," she continued, talking rapidly and with ferocity. "I make you feel something you haven't felt in years - something you can't handle because you've hidden from it for so long. I remember every word you said last night. You should know by now I don't need anything spelled out for me in order to understand the big picture. You don't let people in. You don't show them who you are. You hide behind this kindly, concerned, outgoing 'Professor Lupin' façade. That way you don't have to get too close. Your involvement in other people's lives can be friendly, but superficial."  
  
She approached him until the toes of their shoes squeaked against each other. Fixing her blazing eyes on his, she spoke slowly, softly, and precisely.  
  
"But you wanted to let me in. You wanted to let me see everything. That scares the hell out of you, doesn't it? So now you have to wall yourself back in again and hide from me.. I've thought many things about you, Remus - most of them extremely flattering. But I never, ever thought you were a coward!"  
  
**But I am a coward, Hermione - I'm a coward and a liar and a selfish bastard - I want to love you - and I could - but I won't because I don't want to suffer - I'm not strong enough for you, Hermione - I'm just a bloody coward -**  
  
"I understand what you're saying, Hermione, but it's not in good taste for a professor to be with one of his students," Remus replied quite calmly, skirting every one of Hermione's accusations as if he hadn't actually heard a word she'd said. Softly returning her stare, he spoke in pleasant, measured tones, giving Hermione the impression she was being spoken to as a child. "You could be expelled if it were to get out. I could be fired. And Dumbledore would surely endure a great deal of criticism. He hired me once despite the advice of many important people. Then he welcomed me back again against the wishes of parents and professors. He has given me so many chances. It would be terribly disrespectful to pay back his generosity by carrying on with one of his students. Ending this now is best for everyone."  
  
Hermione stared at Remus intently.  
  
"Please. I'm not an imbecile. This has NOTHING to do with Hogwarts or Dumbledore or you getting fired or me expelled. You know it. I know it. And while were at it, don't tell me you don't have feelings for me. Don't tell me that you aren't attracted to me - that at least a part of you didn't want what happened last night. And that you wouldn't like it to happen again. I saw the sincerity in your eyes when you spoke to me. I heard you repeat my name over and over again, like a mantra, when you came. You can't shut that off so easily, no matter what you say or do."  
  
Spurred by her comments, the images returned to Remus' mind. He remembered - with amazing clarity - the surge of climax passing through him for the first time that night.  
  
**Oh yes - the sweet, sweet fire that burned through every inch of my body - most amazing thing I've felt in probably 15, 16 years, maybe ever - my mind quieted for just that short bit of time and my body shook like mad with those delicious spasms - It felt like an earthbound sort of weightlessness - I n fact, for a moment there, I started to think my body had become so light and alive that I might be able to fly away - but I didn't, and thank god because there she was in the midst of it all, the source of this unbelievable rapture, writhing with my passion - and I didn't need to fly away - there was nothing anywhere else that I wanted - no, all that I wanted was lying beneath me, her woman-child face wet with perspiration, her lower lip crushed between her teeth in the power of her orgasm - that was all I wanted to see, all I could see as I climaxed - climaxed like my soul was breaking free from my body - just gazing at her and moaning her name as if I'd found the meaning of life and it was her - the meaning of life - Hermione, Hermione, Hermione - but it can't happen- **  
  
Remus wavered slightly and sighed, "How I feel and what I want doesn't matter. I have certain responsibilities and one of them is looking out for your best interest."  
  
He regarded her sadly, his voice softening, "I have to do what's right, Hermione, and sometimes that means denying yourself the things you want."  
  
Crossing her arms tightly, Hermione fought back the growing moisture in her eyes and the burning in her throat. She had resolved not to cry. Not in front of Remus, at least. To her surprise, this betrayal of Remus' pained her far more Harry's rejection had -- how or why she wasn't sure. She felt cheated, robbed so unfairly of an exquisite, breathtaking awareness of life.  
  
**Damn it, Remus - How could you?  
  
You lead me into utopia and then you push me out as my lungs are adjusting to the air -  
  
What right do you have to use me like that?  
  
None -  
  
But I pity you Remus, you sad, sad bastard - You'll never have a clue how completely a woman could love you - how I could love you-**  
  
"That cage you're in, Remus - you built it. You locked yourself in it. And you're the only person who's keeping you there," she said with a calm intensity. "You're looking freedom right in the face and you're turning it away because you'd rather be a prisoner to your damned fears than take a chance on living life the way it's meant to be lived. I would do anything to help wake you from this emotional coma you seem to have fallen into, but I can't give what you won't take. And I have no desire to fight losing battles. They're a waste of my time and energy. So you'll have your distance. I won't bother you with anything faintly emotional. As far as I'm concerned, from here on out, we've returned to our original dynamics. We'll be nothing more than student and teacher. And you can forget about last night, pretend it never happened..if that's possible."  
  
She turned and walked out the door without looking back, without faltering.  
  
Left feeling uneasy and vaguely wounded, Remus dazedly watched her tread down the hall, taking notice of how casually she moved - head held high, footfalls even and certain, arms swinging loosely at her side.  
  
Remus' only comfort was knowing he'd managed to act in the name of self- preservation. Still, seeing Hermione drift further and further away intensified the hollow beatings of his heart. He'd maintained his emotional safety, but what had he sacrificed for it? His stomach dropped. His heart twinged. And he set off on the lonesome trek to his office, half-heartedly endeavoring to forget that Hermione Granger had ever made him feel so alive or loved.  
  
**--like a mantra - the meaning of life - Hermione, Hermione, Hermione-**  
  
Once at Gryffindor Tower, Hermione went straight to the girls' dorm. Angry, devastated, and just a little humiliated, Hermione crawled into her bed, drew the curtains around her four-poster, and lay back upon her pillows. Her memories were as persistent as Remus' and she, too, found it difficult to forget the vitality of their unexpected coupling - how wildly alive she felt simply lying in his arms. When she withdrew from her reverie, tears were rushing from her eyes and across her face, dampening the pillow below her. She realized her overwhelming need for release - to weep as loud and as long and as hard as she could. Placing a silencing charm around her bed so she could suffer in private, she sobbed until her throat was raw and her tear ducts were surely bled dry for months. Finally, numbed by her tears, she cocooned herself beneath her sheets and slept deeply, dreamlessly. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: I know it took me forever and a day to deliver this chapter and I apologize. It gave me quite a hassle! Chapter six is rather transitional and sets up future plotlines. Angst abounds. Let me know what you think of this chapter. It's fairly different than the previous five and I'd like to know how well you think it fits in with the story thus far. Feedback will be greatly appreciated.  
  
Remus and Hermione Shippers: You can find this fic and more at the Remus- Hermione Yahoo!Group: Lunar_ChartsRLHG  
  
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Lunar_ChartsRLHG/  
  
Many, many thanks and hugs to Essayel, my favorite Beta-reader!!!  
  
BTW, Essayel, your notes were great, both informative and entertaining. I was going to have Sirius torture Remus a bit more, but I just wanted to get the chapter posted and out of my way for now. I may add some banter later, though. And you are more than welcome to use any of my phrases IRL! Thanks!!!!  
  
Chapter Six  
  
"I just made love with your sweet memory  
  
One thousand times in my head  
  
You said you loved it more than ever  
  
You said  
  
You remain, turned away  
  
Turning further every day" -Weezer  
  
  
  
"I presume I needn't explain why I've called you all together this afternoon," Albus Dumbledore's gentle, yet commanding voice carried about the small circular room. The six individuals sitting at a round table in the center of the room all nodded quietly. Mundungus Fletcher, Arabella Figg, Severus Snape, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, and Remus - along with Dumbledore - comprised the membership of an exclusive, underground network formed to track and counteract the machinations of Lord Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters.  
  
"We've been unable to definitively establish a culprit in the entrapment spell that struck the castle Friday night. Every door has been removed and examined for any indication of the spell's origin. So far, we've found nothing. Of course, I have my very strong suspicions. If I didn't we wouldn't be here right now."  
  
"Excuse me, Albus," Sirius politely interrupted. "Aren't we perhaps jumping to conclusions? To be honest, when you owled me about the spell, I couldn't help but think there were perhaps less sinister minds than Voldemort's at work at Hogwarts on Friday night. You have to admit it's awfully convenient that every door in the school magically locked itself and remained sealed tight for the next twelve hours. On a Friday night. In a castle full of hormonal teenagers."  
  
His smirking eyes swept over the faces around the table for effect and everyone tittered softly.  
  
"The entire affair strikes me as bit too obvious and hackneyed for Voldemort. Actually. well, it sounds like something I would have done when I was a student. I can't imagine a better ploy for laughs *and* a nice shag."  
  
As laughter rippled across the room, Remus noisily burst into a coughing fit, having choked on the tea he'd been drinking.  
  
"Problems, mate?" Sirius asked, turning to his friend. He roughly slapped Remus on the back a few times, as Remus, his face nearly purple with effort and his brow lightly beaded with moisture, struggled to regain both his breath and composure.  
  
Remus cleared his throat, actively avoiding Sirius' eyes. "I'm fine, thanks. Just didn't expect you to be quite so.blunt about your suspicions."  
  
"Since when?!" Sirius remarked, with slight bemusement.  
  
Remus was spared from further inquiry as Dumbledore quietly raised his hand, requesting the full attention of the Order. Dumbledore regarded Sirius and smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, it does smack of a Sirius Black prank, doesn't it? And I've no doubt things went on in the castle that would do you proud, Sirius. In fact, I, too, was rather suspicious of the apparent lack of sophistication of the spell. In fact, for a moment or two I forgot Fred and George Weasley graduated last year. But all of those notions disappeared when I could neither identify nor reverse whatever spell was used on it. The windows were unopenable and unbreakable. And the portraits outside the houses and offices appear to have been stunned for the duration of the curse. No student I have ever known - even the most talented - has been able to channel and properly execute such powerful magic. I don't believe a spell of this strength and intensity could be the result of cheeky teenage troublemaking. And you never know -- perhaps Voldemort has become something of a voyeur."  
  
Dumbledore threw a wink toward Sirius and everyone enjoyed a hearty laugh, except, of course, for Remus, who was still trying to dislodge his stomach from his throat.  
  
"All joking aside," Dumbledore continued. "I think Harry can provide the most compelling evidence pointing to Voldemort. Harry?"  
  
Six sets of eyes turned expectantly to Harry. He glanced around the table self-consciously, his gaze landing on Sirius, who smiled reassuringly and encouraged his godson with a slight nod of the head. Harry inched his chair from the table with uncertainty and rose to address the group.  
  
"Uh.well, I was in the Gryffindor common room talking to Ron - Ron Weasley - and out of nowhere my scar started to hurt. It was bad. It felt like someone was trying to rip into my forehead. I kind of just crumpled up in the chair - in a ball - and started screaming. My scar's only hurt worse than that once.."  
  
Harry paused, uneasily reliving that night, over a year and a half ago, when he and Cedric Diggory won the Triwizard Tournament, when Cedric was murdered by Peter Pettigrew, when Harry's own blood had been used to restore Voldemort to his complete, horrific glory.  
  
**No.don't make me tell it all over again.**  
  
Harry often mused that the perils he so repeatedly encountered were akin to some kind of cruel cosmic irony - somehow he always seemed to be a contributing factor in his own doom.  
  
Dumbledore sensed Harry's dread and waved him on. "That's all right, Harry. We understand what you mean. Go on with your story."  
  
Harry sighed, his body relaxing from the massive strain of thinking those thoughts. He shot a grateful expression to Dumbledore, who regarded Harry with unblinking confidence.  
  
"Okay, uh.so I was screaming pretty loud and everyone was just gathering around looking at me. Ron yelled for someone to get Nurse Pomfrey so Neville - Longbottom - ran for the door and it wouldn't budge. Nearly everyone tried to pry it open, but we were stuck. My head hurt a few seconds longer and then the pain just went away. I was fine the rest of the evening."  
  
Harry tentatively remained standing, unsure if anything more was expected of him. His eyes bounced from one face to another, ferreting for any instructions. Dumbledore finally rose to his feet and moved things along.  
  
"Thank you, Harry. You can sit down," Dumbledore smiled at Harry with mild amusement. His expression, however, quickly grew grave as he again addressed the group. "As I said, we have no witnesses. Harry is the closest proof we have that Voldemort is connected with this attack. Inexplicably, all who were locked outside or confined to the halls of the school claim to have seen nothing or no one suspicious before, during, or after the spell's effects. Though, thankfully, no one appears to have been harmed either. But given Harry's experience, I think it's fairly safe to assume that this is Voldemort's doing."  
  
"I'm with Sirius, Albus," Moody interjected. "Why on earth would Voldemort waste his time and energy blasting Hogwarts with such a futile, harmless spell?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded, "That's a good question, Alastor. Here's what I think - Voldemort was trying to send us a message. The spell was a symbolic gesture -- far more so than an act intended to harm or endanger. We all know Voldemort enjoys manipulation and intimidation as much as he enjoys killing. Either way, it's a demonstration of his power. He not only wanted to remind us of his ever-increasing presence, but he hoped to scare and bully us. By locking every witch and wizard at Hogwarts - even the most powerful among us - in our offices and rooms and dorms, he made it known that we were inescapably trapped - nothing more than rats in a cage. And that's exactly what he wants us to believe - that there's no point in fighting, that we've already been broken and defeated and that, if we're wise, we'll give up now before his crimes become more costly. Of course, he can't possibly believe that such a petty gesture as that will dissuade us from fighting. That's not his goal. He wants to harvest enough doubt in our hearts and minds that when we do face him and the Death Eaters it will be with the nagging suspicion that we don't really have the strength to overcome him. And that, in itself, is deadly."  
  
Dumbledore took a long pause, looking to each face at the table for a sign of assent or dissent.  
  
"Does anybody have any further concerns they would like to voice? Any questions?"  
  
Nobody said anything, just shook their heads in solemn compliance.  
  
"Well, then," Dumbledore said with a sigh, "if we're all in agreement, I think it's time we establish our positions."  
  
He turned to Remus, sitting directly at Dumbledore's left.  
  
"Remus, you're obviously needed here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore began. "We can't very well have our DADA professor running off in the middle of the school year. It's both impractical and conspicuous. Your assignment, however, is no less crucial. In fact, it may be the most imperative task of them all."  
  
Remus nodded his head, characteristically prepared to do whatever he could to further the fight against Voldemort.  
  
"Since your position requires you to be in close company with Harry, I want you to be responsible for watching after him - *as he has a tendency to undertake wildly dangerous adventures with Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger when he should most avoid them* -"  
  
Dumbledore not-so-subtly directed the last portion of the comment at Harry, his smiling eyes turning to the boy with good-natured admonition. Harry grimaced, looking both guilty and annoyed, but grateful for the concern.  
  
"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, directing his words once again to Remus, who suddenly looked rather pale and couldn't seem to meet Dumbledore's gaze as fully as he did before. "I need you to stay in frequent contact with Harry. If Voldemort is nearby, it's quite likely that an attack is imminent and that his target will be Harry. Harry *must* be prepared to fight to the best of his abilities. I'll need you to start training sessions with Harry - see that his skills are sharp and well- developed and that he becomes proficient in any vital spells or curses skills he has yet to learn. You two have a preexisting mentorship, so I trust this won't be a problem and I trust that know enough about where Harry's strengths and weaknesses lie in order to prioritize your lessons. This means, Harry, that it's imperative you are honest with Professor Lupin about any and all unusual or suspicious occurrences - especially burning scars."  
  
Remus hesitantly turned his eyes to Harry, who was looking to him anxiously. Swallowing his selfish concerns, he flashed Harry a smile of assurance.  
  
"Uh.No, Albus, of course not," Remus said, his voice not quite as certain as his words. "We'll start this week. Harry is a fast learner, so this shouldn't be a difficulty."  
  
"Splendid Remus," Dumbledore intoned, gripping his arm firmly and with assurance. "Now Sirius, you'll need to be back out into the wild, keeping your ears open to what's going on.."  
  
Remus' mind began to drift away into his thoughts. He felt mildly dazed at the prospect of this new responsibility. It wasn't the time and energy he would expend in the lessons that so unsettled him. Nor did he feel especially overwhelmed by the weight of the task. No, the problem was his conscience - and how easily it could be disturbed.  
  
**Well, they always did say payback was a bitch..I should have expected something like this to happen.  
  
How can I spend all this time one-on-one with Harry? How can I possibly ask him to trust in me as a mentor and protector, when he has every reason not to. I'm a dirty middle-aged school teacher who lusted after his sixteen year-old girlfriend and then didn't have the moral aptitude to control myself from having sex with her -- on the very night of their break-up. How can I possibly face him alone for hours on end with the barest and starkest of emotional realities - the need to save Harry, and the world, from sure destruction - between us and not continually come face to face with the other bare and stark reality that I bedded his ex-girlfriend, his best friend. Those green eyes can look at you and pierce your soul sometimes. You wonder what he sees through those eyes.. what he doesn't see.  
  
Perhaps he'll perceive my true nature and the disappointment I ultimately am.  
  
Some "protector" I've proven myself to be.. **  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
"So quite a weekend, huh, Harry?"  
  
Harry smiled and laughed, which helped to ease the tired look on his face.  
  
"Well, I suppose you could say that, though compared to some of the other freak occurrences in my life, it really does seem a bit weak," Harry joshed, trying to conceal what felt like a lifetime's worth of stress. "Could've done without head splitting pain, but I'm counting my blessings -- at least I've not been used for *yet another* evil ritual."  
  
Sirius chuckled, but knew Harry was deflecting attention, which usually wasn't a good sign. Harry was rarely upfront about his emotions - especially if he felt them to be significant enough to burden others. Still, Sirius felt this was neither the time nor place to force the issue. Harry was clearly beleaguered and exhausted. He affectionately patted Harry on the back.  
  
"We'll get to the bottom of all this before it comes to that point again," he said quietly before pausing to move the conversation to a less morbid topic.  
  
"But you *did* get free-rein of the Tower for the entire night." He regarded Harry with a knowing grin. "I'm sure Hermione helped you forget about the hassle with the scar."arryH  
  
Harry just stared at the floor and shuffled his feet a bit. He was in no mood to rehash *that* unhappy bit of drama.  
  
"Yeah..." he said vaguely, looking up at Sirius with a slight smile that did nothing to hide his discomfort. "Same as usual."  
  
**Except that Hermione hasn't spoken to me all weekend.  
  
She probably hates me.  
  
In fact, think I do, too.**  
  
"Harry, you really look like you could use some rest. Why don't you head back to Gryffindor Tower and take a nap," Sirius suggested, sensing he was getting nowhere with Harry, who was clearly in no mood to talk.  
  
"Yeah.That's probably a good idea," Harry said hesitantly.  
  
"I'll be back in a week or two and I'll stop by to see you, okay?"  
  
Harry looked mildly relieved and nodded.  
  
"Go on," Sirius ordered Harry good-naturedly. "Get yourself into bed!"  
  
Harry studied Sirius for a moment, his eyes straining to convey the immensity of his fear and misery.  
  
**Dammit..He doesn't need to know all my bloody problems. He's got plenty of his own.  
  
I must be strong. For him. For Hermione. For Ron. For everyone. They can't know how dark it is inside my mind..They need me.**  
  
Suddenly feeling quite alone, Harry hurled himself against Sirius' and embraced him fiercely, grasping him as if mortally afraid to let go. Sirius was a bit unprepared, given Harry's lack of enthusiasm throughout their conversation, and stumbled slightly. He steadied himself and hugged Harry back, fondly ruffling his already disheveled hair.  
  
"I guess I'll see you later then," Harry said, stepping away from Sirius, and immediately self-conscious about his unrestrained show of affection. His cheeks were reddening rapidly.  
  
"Of course. And you know *you can owl me whenever you need to*, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, thanks," Harry replied, though both Harry and Sirius knew the offer was made in vain.  
  
Harry turned and headed toward the door.  
  
"And Harry--," Sirius yelled to him. "-don't let me hear you're not taking care of yourself. I've got spies around here."  
  
Harry looked back, smiling and shaking his head. "I know. I know."  
  
And he was gone.  
  
Sirius watched the door for a moment or two after Harry had gone, troubled by the boy's behavior. A hand landed on his shoulder and drew him from his thoughts.  
  
"I thought you gave up on trying to see through doors that year you got in trouble for standing outside the girls dorm for hours on end and creeping out the girls," Remus grinned at his friend.  
  
A distracted, somber face greeted Remus as Sirius tuned to him.  
  
"Harry just left. I'm worried about him."  
  
Remus blanched faintly, his mind immediately drawn to Hermione.  
  
**Did she tell him?**  
  
Then he felt guilty, not only for sleeping with Harry's barely ex- girlfriend, but for now being more concerned about the fallout of that than Harry's well-being.  
  
**You're paranoid, Remus. And now you're becoming a self-obsessed prig!  
  
In case you forgot, Harry's being hunted by an evil dark lord. Perhaps he's a bit more concerned about saving himself - and the world - than his teacher's sexual conquests.  
  
Unless, perhaps, the latest is his ex-girlfriend..**  
  
"What did he say?" Remus asked, cleverly satisfying both concerns.  
  
"Nothing really," Sirius replied, looking troubled. "That's what worries me. Harry knows his scar only hurts when Voldemort's nearby, but he's not saying anything about it, which, in Harry-speak means there's something *very* wrong. He's trying to be stoic about it."  
  
Remus frowned.  
  
"He hates feeling that people are going out their way for him," Remus said. "He's never forthcoming about his emotions."  
  
"Yes, but if there was ever a time he needed to speak up for himself, it's now."  
  
"He's strong, Sirius, and he's smart. He wouldn't have survived this long if he wasn't. Let him handle this as he sees fit. He'll talk when he's ready to talk. Besides, he's got Ron and.and."  
  
".Hermione?" Sirius gave Remus a strange look.  
  
".Yes," he recovered quickly, not pausing to acknowledge his sudden difficulty with uttering Hermione's name. "He has them to confide in and they've never let him down."  
  
"You're probably right. I just can't help but feel over-protective of him. The kid's had such a rough life. And, of course, I contributed to that."  
  
"Remus!" Arabella Figg, once Harry's Privet Drive babysitter, came trotting over to the two men, flashing a brilliant, toothy smile - at Remus.  
  
Remus smiled politely at her. He knew her agenda and not in the mood to entertain her entreaties.  
  
She was a beautiful woman, only two years older than Remus and Sirius, and had known the two men since their school days at Hogwarts. A Ravenclaw, Arabella had been renowned for her intelligence, beauty, and natural gift for inner-species transfiguration. The Marauders mainly only knew her from reputation. It wasn't until Dumbledore first convened the Order of the Phoenix two years later that Remus, Sirius, and James befriended Arabella, by then married to Jeoffry Figg, a well-respected auror. One of the Ministry's top operatives, he was lauded for his stealth and keen instincts -- fitting, as he was an unregistered animagus feline. When transformed into a lean, sleek, black cat, he could slink unnoticed into the most guarded Death Eater fortress, providing the Ministry with some of their most crucial information in the war against Voldemort.  
  
Spies for the dark forces, however, were equally as cunning. Before long, they had discovered Jeoffry's animagus form. Intercepted as he crept soundlessly into yet another Death Eater stronghold, Jeoffry was abducted and murdered by the Death Eaters -- only months before Voldemort's downfall. Arabella narrowly escaped the same fate. Overcome with grief, but determined her husband would not die in vain, she wholeheartedly accepted the task of functioning as Harry's Secret Keeper and masked guardian. Her transfiguration skills were vital to the assignment. Assuming the body of an eccentric spinster, Arabella set up operation on Privet Drive and began her surveillance of Harry. To keep herself company, she bought herself a black cat. Her weakness for the animals had only grown since Jeoffry's death. She soon found herself providing a home to every stray on the block. It lessened her solitude and eased her pain  
  
Imagine Harry's surprise when the lovely, vivacious woman summoned back to the Order by Dumbledore was also revealed to be the strange, elderly woman who babysat him when the Dursley's went on family outings.  
  
Arabella approached the men, beaming warmly at both. "Hello, Sirius. How is life treating you these days?"  
  
He nodded and smiled back in his usual smooth, charismatic manner. "Quite well, Arabella, though I see it's been *spoiling* you."  
  
"Why thank you, Sirius," she replied, with sharp-witted fondness. "I see your fugitive lifestyle has done nothing to dampen your way with the ladies."  
  
He smirked unashamedly and shrugged.  
  
Shaking her head, she turned to Remus, grinning winsomely, and all but excluded Sirius from the remainder of the conversation. Amused, Sirius leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, anticipating a thoroughly enjoyable show.  
  
"And how have you been, Remus?" she inquired, tossing a torrent of sleek, black locks over her shoulder.  
  
"I'm just fine, Arabella. Thank you," he replied quietly, trying to remain as low-key as possible.  
  
"Splendid," she said, her velvety violet eyes studying him thoughtfully. "You know, I'm going to be around here for the rest of the evening.."  
  
He nervously shoved his hands in his pockets, knowing what she was hinting at and not wanting to address it.  
  
"I was just.just thinking maybe if you were free tonight we could do something," she said in a hushed voice, despite the fact that Sirius remained close enough to hear every word of the conversation.  
  
Remus blushed slightly and looked about the room uncomfortably, "Oh.well.I'd really love to, Arabella, but I've a gigantic stack of papers waiting to be graded. And I have to write a test for my third years. You know what they say - no rest for the weary"  
  
Sirius craned his head around Arabella's shadow, catching Remus' eye. He was grinning and obviously highly entertained. Remus shot him a haggard look he hoped Arabella hadn't seen.  
  
"Of course," she said, her full red lips curling demurely at the corners of her mouth. "I keep forgetting you're still teaching. My apologies.."  
  
With that, Remus began to make his farewells, thinking he'd talked his way out of Arabella's advances, but she wasn't so easily discouraged.  
  
"-I'm going to be in Hogsmeade next weekend. Perhaps you could meet me at the Three Broomsticks and we could have a drink or two."  
  
"That might work..It's going to depend on how much work I plow through during the week, especially since I'm going to have to begin training with Harry," he cringed dramatically, hoping it would be enough to emphasize the "great" volume of work awaiting him. "Why don't you owl me at the end of the week and we'll see what we can work out."  
  
Arabella's smile dimmed a bit, but her expression was no less attentive, "Perfect.that's terrific..So I guess I'll see you next weekend - hopefully!"  
  
She kissed Remus on the cheek and trotted off. He looked both besieged and shell-shocked.  
  
"She didn't say goodbye to me!" Sirius whined, bursting into laughter.  
  
"I don't understand how she can be concerned about her social calendar at a time like this," Remus remarked, incredulously.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes.  
  
"Remus, I take this situation just as seriously as you do, but it's not as if it's been decreed that *'there shall be no snogging until Lord Voldemort has been destroyed.*'" He said, assuming a booming, self-important voice. "Good god! People would be killing each other from sexual frustration! We're trying to *lessen* the death toll, not multiply it."  
  
"You know, you've always had a really skewed outlook on life, Sirius. It's good to know some things don't change."  
  
"You'll never understand, will you, Remus?" Sirius sighed. "There's a very valid point to my joking."  
  
Remus stared at him, skeptical and expectant.  
  
"Remus, life is scary as hell these days. Again. People need each other. They need to feel connected. Don't you remember how it was the last time? We were all grasping for something, someone - a safe haven in the chaos. No normal person could endure all of this damned gloom and doom without the possibility of love. Or the occasional hop in the sack."  
  
"Well, perhaps I'm not normal," Remus replied dryly.  
  
"Amen," Sirius muttered, irritated by Remus' obstinacy.  
  
He glared at Sirius.  
  
"Honestly, Remus, when was the last time you spent a significant amount of time with an adult woman NOT employed at Hogwarts?"  
  
Remus could only inwardly savor the timely irony of Sirius' question.  
  
**.he didn't, after all say anything about women enrolled at Hogwarts..Even Sirius would be appalled to know I've not only had sex quite recently, but that it was with Hermione Granger, who easily dispelled any doubts about her maturity..but cast a great many shadows on mine..**  
  
"See?" Sirius exclaimed, seizing on Remus' silence. "You can't even remember!"  
  
"You know, I thought this was a meeting to discuss suspicious goings-on in the school," he replied tersely. "I can't for the life of me imagine what that has to do with my damned love life!"  
  
**.well, actually, plenty, but that's beside the point..**  
  
Sirius regarded Remus sympathetically, then peculiarly.  
  
"You're not.you're not flying for the other team, are you?"  
  
"Why? Are you going to hit on me, too?" Remus asked sardonically.  
  
"Well, now that you mention it," Sirius smirked, throwing his arm around Remus, who dismissed him with a snort and shrugged him off.  
  
"What a notion - you and I an item," Remus said, making a face. "Even if I did fancy men, which, for the record, I *don't*, you'd still not make my shortlist of likely partners. I mean, don't get me wrong - you're a terrific friend, but you're a bit too unruly for my taste."  
  
"No offense taken, mate. You wouldn't be my type either. Let's see.you're anal-retentive..emotionally repressed..terrified of taking chances. Not my bag. I like a little *life* in my love life. And the lack of cleavage would inevitably become intolerable."  
  
"Sirius, it's good to know you still have your priorities in the right place."  
  
"At least I can admit to myself that I appreciate certain.aesthetic qualities in a woman. And I know not to waste perfectly valid opportunities with attractive women. Especially when they're in heat and practically pawing at me. I thought you, of all people, would be acquainted with mating rituals. Aren't you able to sniff out all of that hormonal energy?"  
  
"My senses aren't as heightened when I'm myself - *which is most of the time, by the way*. Occasionally I'm caught by a powerful scent--" **like honey-scented curls** "--but I don't follow women around trying to sniff out the horny ones."  
  
Sirius grimaced and shook his head in disapproval.  
  
"I'm telling you, the woman wanted to wear you to bed tonight. How often do you run into that, oh chaste one?"  
  
**Enough..**  
  
* * * *  
  
As Harry made his way to the boys' dorm, his path crossed with Hermione's, who'd been avoiding Harry all weekend, assuming he didn't care to have anything to do with her anymore. Besides, she had wounds to nurse and questions to answer.  
  
**How did I manage to get the brush-off twice within a 24-hour period? That must be some kind of talent, though one I'd gladly do without. I suppose that's what I get for letting my hormones get the better of me..**  
  
Their eyes met and Harry tentatively smiled at her.  
  
"Hi, Hermione," he said politely, slowing to a halt as they came to face one another.  
  
"Hello, Harry," she said quietly, warmly. She, too, stopped. "How are you?"  
  
"Um.." He didn't know whether or not to tell her the truth. He'd broken her heart. Did she really care that he was miserable, lonely, and scared?  
  
**Probably not.**  
  
"Okay..Just saw Sirius."  
  
"Really? What brought him to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Oh, Dumbledore called a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix because of what happened to my scar on Friday..Do you know about that?"  
  
"Yes. Ron told me."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Harry began to continue his story, then stopped, paused, and looked up at Hermione inquisitively.  
  
"Where *were* you Friday night?"  
  
Hermione's brain froze momentarily, surrendering to the burden of memory. The sweet relief of waking in the dead of night, enveloped in Remus' body. The breathtaking realization that her eyes were wide open and she could feel his warm fingers spread across her belly. It hadn't been a dream.  
  
"I.I took my books into one of the empty classrooms to study," she met Harry's eyes and quickly looked down. "I wanted to go somewhere where we wouldn't run into one another."  
  
"I-I'm so sorry, Hermione," Harry stammered, a look of utter remorse on his face. "It must have been horrible being stuck in a cold classroom by yourself all night."  
  
"It wasn't so bad..I managed to keep myself occupied.." Phantom sensations resurfaced and lured Hermione away from her conversation with Harry. She was certain she could still feel the warm weight of his body moving between her legs, his marauding lips trailing a mad path across her body as if to longing to consume her. She lingered for a moment before snapping back to reality with a shiver. ".but you were telling me about the Order of the Phoenix meeting. Go on."  
  
"Oh. Well, Dumbledore called the meeting because he thinks Voldemort was behind everything. I do, too," Harry said, clearly disheartened. "Dumbledore is sure he's gonna come after me. He's even got me in 'training' -- polishing my spells and counter-curses with Lupin."  
  
Hermione flinched at the sound of Remus' name, her heart bounding, then breaking to think of him existing outside of her mind - the only place she could know the Remus who'd so effortlessly and eagerly engaged her heart Friday night.  
  
"Well, then you've got nothing to worry about. Professor Lupin is very.thorough." She said stiffly.  
  
Harry said nothing for a moment and then looked up at her repentantly.  
  
"You know I still want us to be best friends, right?"  
  
"Actually, no," she replied, relieved that their breakup wasn't going to ruin their longtime friendship. She missed having him to talk to all weekend. Whether they were friends or lovers, he was her rock. She wasn't quite sure how to navigate the rough waters of reality without his input and support -- not that she would have dared to tell him about Remus.  
  
"Well, I do," he said hopefully. "That is, if you want to. I just don't see the point of pretending we don't mean anything to each other because we aren't dating anymore. Anyway, we're a team -- I can't do without you."  
  
Hermione was touched by Harry's sentiment, especially since it so matched her own.  
  
"Me neither, Harry," she grinned, throwing her arms around him in an enthusiastic embrace. Harry squeezed her tightly, feeling more terribly alone than ever as he struggled to fight back tears. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
A/N: Again, I apologize for the wait. Christmas was crazy. My computer got a virus and then I did, too. And then it took, like, a friggin' week to hook up the damn cable modem I got for Christmas.  
  
Anyway, I hope you find the chapter worth the wait. It *is*, I believe, the longest chapter I've written so far. Really agonized over parts of it. I'm horrible at editing. I'm too self-critical and too much of a perfectionist. And after awhile, I lose my patience and get sick of reading the damned thing and decide, "I'm not going to make any difference on it at this point - if it sucks, they'll tell me."  
  
All the stuff later in the chapter about the Etchroi is directly and shamelessly stolen from Madeline L'Engle's "A Wind in the Door" for lack of any decent original ideas of my own.  
  
Many endless thank yous to: mischiefmagnet, Waterdoggie, JediHermione, Aragorn's Girl, hermieg12, Poe Kittie, JustAReader, Michiru-san, Bre, Wild Mage, Sarah T, Serpent de Feu (I promise there'll be a 'Turnabout' sequel in the not-too-distant future), Witchy-grrl, Croft, Astraea, Bansh, websterwitch13, Rage Point, Shelly Salmalin, Tekki, Clavel, erisnymph, Lyra Lupin, NewMoon589, Kate, Once in a blue moon, bmiller669, Castaspella, Sabrinalupin (shall e-mail soon.god, why is Christmas soooooo time- consuming!), SacBeagle, bcalimano, Lina the Inverse Dramata, Sandy (ask and ye shall receive!), innocentimmortal, two wonderful people whose reviews on AFF.net got lost in the server change, everyone over at Lunar_ChartsRLHG, and anybody else who I'm forgetting (hopefully no one) for the amazing feedback. It's unbelievably helpful to my muse!!!! (making-up for lost time, since this relative ff newbie has been neglecting to thank her lovely reviewers)  
  
And, of course, my deepest gratitude and appreciation to Essayel, who not only betas my fics beautifully, but humors my creepy Teacher!Remus- Student!Hermione fascination (  
  
If you're a Remus-Hermione shipper, hop on over to Lunar_ChartsRLHG: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Lunar_ChartsRLHG/  
  
HAPPY NEW YEAR and, of course, ENJOY!  
  
Chapter 7  
  
You can't avoid her  
  
She's in the air  
  
In between molecules  
  
Of Oxygen and Carbon dioxide  
  
Only in dreams  
  
We see what it means  
  
Reach out our hands  
  
Hold on to hers  
  
But when we wake  
  
It's all been erased  
  
And so it seems  
  
Only in dreams -Weezer  
  
"Remus -" Her voice rang distant, yet resonant, as if she uttered her words from the end of a long hallway, the sounds bounding off the walls to his ears.  
  
But she was near. He could feel her steady breath on his stomach and he looked down. There she was, lying beside him in what appeared to be his bed. Her head was nestled upon his bare chest. The sheets were gathered at their waists, her bare belly and breasts pressed cozily to his side. He couldn't see under the covers but he was certain she was equally as naked beneath the sheets. From the intimate cling of the linen below his waist, so was he. He felt breathless. She was so close and he longed to touch her again. Captivated by her presence, he slowly drew his fingers across the chestnut curls scattered about his torso.  
  
"Remus?" she repeated, peering up at him questioningly.  
  
"Yes?" His voice felt foreign, completely detached from his body. The words were coming from his mouth, but the sound was emanating somewhere above him.  
  
"I just wanted you to know - how much this evening means to me," she said quietly, gazing into his eyes. Her own eyes blazed with vulnerability and affection. "I - I think maybe - I - love you."  
  
She turned away and settled her head back upon his chest. "You don't have to say anything, Remus. It's all right."  
  
Remus *did* want to say something. He just didn't know what that something was.  
  
As he fought for words, his body began to transform. The werewolf was gradually emerging, but as it never had before. He had retained his human form, morphing into a hirsute, fanged man-beast rather than the usual incarnation of his lycanthropy - a four-legged, feral creature with an urgent taste for blood and violence.  
  
There was no pain. His flesh didn't feel as if it was being ripped from his body. His mind didn't ache as if it were about to explode. His eyes didn't tear up and burn with pain. On the contrary, it felt rather pleasant - a strange, gentle, soothing sensation he was helpless to resist.  
  
Hermione didn't react. She lay tucked up against him, seemingly oblivious to the masses of fur sprouting all around her.  
  
"Hermione," he said with urgency, uncertain she was safe with him.  
  
She glanced up at him expectantly, neither scared nor pitying, and smiled tenderly, reaching up to rub the fur on the bridge of his nose.  
  
Remus flinched and began to push her away. He was sure the hungering wolf would emerge and harm her. But all he felt was the warmth of her touch. He still had control of his mind, though it felt somehow separate from his body. He had no urge to hunt or bite or kill. Aside from his body, he was utterly unchanged.  
  
"What's happened to me?"  
  
"Well - It would appear that you've become a werewolf," she said simply, speaking into his chest. "-or you've gone a terribly long time without shaving."  
  
"But how? Why? It's not even a full moon!"  
  
She shrugged slightly, tracing soft, swirling patterns into his fur, "Strange things happen when you get caught up in another person."  
  
"But aren't you scared? I mean, none of this makes sense. What if my mind catches up to my body? I could attack you out of the blue!"  
  
"You won't."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Because this is a dream and dreams usually come from your self-conscious. Your becoming a wolf has far more to do with your emotions and instincts than your literal physical form," she said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.  
  
"So you're telling me I'm hairy and clawed right now because I'm feeling out-of-sorts?!"  
  
Hermione turned to face Remus. She set her elbow on his belly and propped her head up on her hand, looking very much like she was about to reveal the meaning of life in a long, pretentiously-worded lecture.  
  
"When you're a wolf, you react out of pure instinct and feeling. Logic plays a very small part. In a sense, you're out of control. In another sense, you're free. That's how you feel with me and that's why you're scared of me. In fact, that's probably what prompted your change this evening."  
  
"But you're not at all troubled about lying in bed with a werewolf?" Remus asked, unable to move past his fixation with Hermione's utter lack of distress at his metamorphosis.  
  
"No," she shrugged, shaking her head.  
  
"Why? I mean, do you often bed wild, blood-thirsty monsters?"  
  
"Don't be silly, Remus. You know you're my only 'wild, blood-thirsty creature,'" she smirked. "I love every single piece of your personality, everything that makes you Remus - including the werewolf."  
  
"The werewolf is *not* me."  
  
"*That's* your problem," she said matter-of-factly. "Like it or not, the wolf is as much a part of your identity as the professor. If you hate the wolf, you hate yourself."  
  
"I don't hate myself," he replied, defensively.  
  
Hermione bowed her head and laughed gently. "If you honestly believe that, Remus, we've far bigger problems than your fear of intimacy."  
  
"The werewolf is a curse. He does nothing but cause misery."  
  
"Sometimes - yes. And sometimes the werewolf is wiser than the professor - you just won't listen long enough to hear any of his insight."  
  
She settled down against his chest again and pulled his arm back around her shoulder, snuggling into his warm pelt.  
  
She sighed languidly and kissed his furry belly, "I really just want to lay here with you and fall asleep"  
  
"Remus, what are you thinking?"  
  
"I love you-"  
  
Remus' eyes burst open with a gasp. He drew his hands over his face and slowly sat up, his breathing shallow and fast. A glance about his himself proved he was alone and entirely human. The realization neither relieved nor disappointed him. He sat up, looking dazed and overwhelmed, and held his head in his hands, miserable.  
  
The nights had become neverending since his encounter with Hermione. Alone in his bed, surrounded by darkness and silence, Remus found it nearly impossible to evade the emotional and sexual longing he felt for Hermione. He saw her body every time he closed his eyes - the silkiness of her flesh, the shapely lines of her long legs, the slow curves of her breasts, the soft triangle of curls massed between her thighs. At the outset, it was always a sweet torment. He thrilled at the recollection of her naked body and the sensations that rose within him as he explored every inch of her flesh.  
  
Yet he couldn't have her. And if he was going to uphold any semblance of propriety, he never would. That caused him a degree of heartache he hadn't quite expected.  
  
Hermione Granger was forbidden fruit. Still, Remus kept sneaking over to the tree to have a gander at the ripe, round apples, imagining what it would be like to sink his teeth into one again.  
  
* * * *  
  
All the untested virtue  
  
The things I said I'd never do Least of all to you  
  
I know he's kind and true  
  
I know that he is good to you  
  
He'll never care for you more than I do  
  
But I don't believe in love  
  
And I can't be changed  
  
All alone as I've learned to be  
  
In this mess  
  
I have made the same mistakes  
  
Over and over again -Ben Folds Five  
  
  
  
"Those are all the notes for today," Remus told the class, casually leaning back against the front edge of his desk, "but we still have about a half an hour left before class is over. Get out your text books and start reading chapter seven about consciousness manipulation. And before you all go this afternoon, I've your tests on chapter five to return to you."  
  
Remus took a seat behind his desk while the students pulled out their textbooks. It took them several minutes to settle down and actually crack open their books, as they had apparently interpreted the end of Remus' lecture as a cue to whisper and snicker amongst themselves for a bit. Hermione was the only one to begin reading without delay, though she was almost immediately side-tracked - pausing and laughing quietly as Harry said something to her.  
  
As he was making notations in his grade book, Remus stole a furtive look at her. She had loosely twisted her hair back and speared it in place with her wand after repeatedly brushing her long curls from her face while she tried to read. And though the academic in him found Hermione's dedication to uninterrupted reading admirable, he was primarily appreciative that, with her hair gathered to the back of her head, he was treated to a lovely view of her long, slender neck.  
  
What a neck she had. So lovely to behold, but even better to kiss - on that soft space where the nape began to mesh with the sensitive flesh below her ears. He remembered how she'd shuttered when he'd moved his lips against that particular spot. She'd liked it, as well, when he slowly, scarcely traced the path of her pulse with the tip of his tongue. He'd continued to her jawline and her earlobe, sucking and nipping at her skin all along the way.  
  
**Remus..**  
  
He dropped his eyes back to his gradebook and continued to log test grades.  
  
**Where was I? Ah - Bulstrode, Millicent. B-. Crabbe, Vincent. D-. Finnegan, Seamus. C. Goyle, Gregory. F. Granger, Hermione - A+.**  
  
He ran his eye over her row of grades. A's straight down the line. He smiled to himself, amused by her unyielding academic consistency.  
  
** "Oh - Professor Lupin, I'm beginning to think you're the case I've been studying for."**  
  
Her words returned to him as clearly as if she were speaking in his ear.  
  
**"See - you-you not only engage my mind, but my body, too - even more than I had ever imagined. You make me respond in ways I didn't realize were possible."**  
  
Remus cleared his throat loudly, but already knew she wouldn't be drowned out. She'd spoken to him before when the room was quiet and his mind was still. She'd sneak in through some unguarded corner of his thoughts and taunt him with his own recollections.  
  
**Do you remember?  
  
But of course you do. How could any of it have fallen through the cracks of your mind and into obscurity?  
  
In fact, it's quite clear in your mind, isn't it? How her eyes, half- closed, shone both hazy and intense at the same time. How her skin against your tongue tasted sweet and fresh. How her moans of pleasure dissolved into a low purr that moved as a soothing rhythm against your cheek. How her small hands in your hair spilled over your scalp like rainwater pouring down in a singular torrent. How her flesh felt warm and alive against your lips. How her arms wrapped around your neck so tenderly, so longingly as if she might never let go. How her voice, her words -**  
  
"*Harry!!!*" Hermione barely whispered, in giddy shock.  
  
Remus' eyes shot up from his grade book to the boy and girl directly in front of him. Harry had his hand at Hermione's side, apparently trying to rouse her attention with ticklish fingers. She tried to slap him away with playful annoyance, but he wouldn't relent. Her suppressed giggles were becoming noisier as Harry snickered devilishly at her inability to control neither him nor her own reactions. They abruptly stopped their horseplay, however, and returned, solemn and silent, to their reading when they noticed their professor watching them.  
  
Remus did not react.  
  
"Good going, Potter," Remus heard Hermione hiss quietly, her eyes frozen downward to the text. She kicked Harry in the shin, smirking.  
  
Harry looked over at Hermione. Hermione looked over at Harry. Like merry conspirators, their eyes locked - dancing with wordless communication - and they shared mischievous grins. It was the kind of unspoken concurrence of thought that only the best of friends - or lovers - can share.  
  
Remus went back to his grade book and tried to ignore the twinge of envy in his chest.  
  
**Okay - Malfoy, Draco. A. Parkinson, Pansy. C-. Potter, Harry - Potter, Harry - The Boy Who Lived, the savior of the wizarding world - the boy for whom I'm responsible - a good boy, a kind boy, a brave boy - the boy who had Hermione, who she loved -  
  
-- loves?  
  
Potter, Harry - the boy who broke up with Hermione - right? He told her he didn't love her anymore, didn't he? They're friends - best friends. Six years of friendship breeds that kind of familiarity - As does young love-  
  
Oh, sod it! You don't love her - remember? You were right to turn her away that morning. You've enough on your mind - don't need a silly girl on your heels, demanding your time, your life. It's just you. Safe. Secure. Alone.  
  
Potter, Harry - B - **  
  
The students were getting restless, riffling through papers, shifting in their seats, chatting with increasing volume. Remus realized class was almost over.  
  
"Alright everybody," he said, rising from behind the desk. "When you get your test, you're free to go."  
  
He wove about the classroom, handing tests to antsy students ready to bolt from the room.  
  
"Dean - good job - big improvement over the last test."  
  
"Ron - you might want to study next time."  
  
"Draco - excellent work."  
  
"Hermione - Perfect as usual," Remus said, forcing himself to remain casual and comfortable while passing Hermione her test.  
  
Their eyes met, hers twinkling happily - void of reservation or intimidation. She offered him her usual charming smile and took the test from him, her hand momentarily sweeping against his. The contact shot like a bullet of warmth through his veins and he could feel his flesh prickle with goosebumps. It was all he could do to keep hold of the tests he clutched and avoid crawling across the desk and right into her lap. Hermione, however, appeared completely unaffected, as she slipped the test into her notebook and gathered her bag. Harry grinned, watching her prepare to leave, and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently.  
  
"Wait for me, speed racer," he said, pulling her back down into her seat. They both laughed.  
  
Remus couldn't help but think that for a friend - an ex-boyfriend, no less - Harry held Hermione's hand just a bit too long.  
  
They fleetingly reminded him of another couple he once knew. A couple he loved, but often resented in spite of his best intentions.  
  
He used to watch Lily Evans and James Potter as he now stood watching Hermione and Harry. In fact, he used to study them - like everything else in his life he could only experience second-hand. There were times he was as absorbed in their romance as they were. He took keen note of all the nuances of their interaction. The casual way they held hands on the way to class or the Great Hall - as natural and automatic to them as blinking or breathing. Or the way James would stare at Lily when her head was turned - so clearly admiring her, marveling at the amazing stroke of luck that brought her to him. Or the way Lily used to attend every one of James' Quidditch matches, cheering him on with rapt enthusiasm and nervous anticipation. Any time he was injured on the field, she sat by his side in the infirmary, holding his hand and watching him sleep, until he was sent back to the tower with a full bill of health.  
  
It was beautiful and terrible to observe - at least for Remus. To be friends with James and Lily was to watch his greatest desire play out before him, life flaunting his unrealized dreams right under his nose. Of course, Remus got attention from females. He bandied about the castle with a number of attractive girls, but they never stayed around for much more than that. He carried far too much baggage. He was far too damaged. He had too many secrets.  
  
And perhaps exactly because of that fact - because he *knew* his horrible secret meant no one would love him the way Lily loved James - it sometimes seemed all he ever wanted was a partner, a lover with which to bear his burden. Transforming into a werewolf was never a pleasant experience, but it could be made tolerable with the company of someone whose appreciation of him was total. The Marauders had taught him that. They were exactly the support he needed as a child, but as he grew older he always longed for something greater and all-encompassing. He wanted a girl who could love him without fear, completely and unwaveringly. What scared Remus, however, was the possibility that sixteen year -old Hermione Granger, his best and brightest *student*, could be that woman. And just seeing her smile at Harry or laugh at something he said with the easy affection of familiarity, friendship, history, made him feel he was watching a repeat of James and Lily - another hard reminder of having been denied happiness yet again.  
  
* * * *  
  
But your taste still lingers on my lips like I just placed them upon yours  
  
and I starve for you.  
  
But this new diet's liquid  
  
and dulling to the senses.  
  
And it's crude but it will do. -Dashboard Confessional  
  
" - Remus, please. Let me make love to you. Let me show you how my body responds to you -"  
  
She took his hand and guided it beneath her skirt, to the wet patch of silk between her thighs. She looked up at him, her eyes assuring him that it was only the slightest indication of her arousal.  
  
"No one's ever made me ache like this - do you know why, Remus?"  
  
He shook his head mutely.  
  
Her hair was loose and free, curls tumbling wildly about her face and shoulders, like an uncontrollable mane of silky-smooth chocolate. He wanted to consume her. He tried. But he found his legs too leaden to move.  
  
"Because you're inside of me - all the time - inside my head - my soul - my gut -"  
  
She gazed at him with an unnerving sort of intensity. Her lips, glistening moistly in the candlelight, were a brilliant, bold shade of red. They cast a chilling contrast to her naturally pallid complexion, leaving Remus both unsettled and aroused. Again he sought to go to her and again he went nowhere.  
  
"-but that's all I have - I want more - I want you - all of you, all the time - I want to feel you under my skin and across it - I want you to possess my mind and my lips - I want you to make my heart and my body quiver -"  
  
She crawled toward him on her hands and knees - confident and hungry, like a lioness slinking in for the kill. Creeping past a shadow, the light struck her face and Remus' eyes were again drawn to the shocking crimson glint of her lips. A note of trepidation edged into his enticement.  
  
"I want everything you can give me - everything - I promise you won't regret it -"  
  
He began to squirm against his paralysis as she drew nearer, suddenly uncomfortable with the hungry passion in her gaze.  
  
"Why are you so scared? You won't lose a thing - I'll fill you full with me - we'll sustain each other - just surrender and I'll take care of you -"  
  
But he knew she already had him. She would consume him. He could already see the blood on her lips -  
  
He groaned and rolled on to his back. Once again, he'd been dreaming. His forehead was beaded with sweat and he could feel his heart thumping against his chest. He wanted her so badly it seemed he could almost taste her on his lips. His body throbbed for her. Beneath the covers he could feel his penis strain against the cotton material of his pajama pants, demanding immediate attention.  
  
"Not again -"  
  
Frustrated, he slammed his head down into his pillow and fought to ignore the burning in his groin, resolving to clear his mind of Hermione and drift back to sleep.  
  
The resistance lasted perhaps a minute.  
  
He pounded his fist against the mattress and growled with uncharacteristic ferocity.  
  
"Fuck! Why?! Dammit - why won't she leave me alone?!"  
  
He was livid, but uncertain whether his anger was toward Hermione or himself. First his mind had yielded to her magic. Now his body bent to her. Even in slumber. The long-maintained control he'd struggled to cultivate was beginning to slip from his grasp. And as his psyche clung to the safe haven of his inhibitions, his body urged him to let go and seize hold of something else.  
  
He flung the sheets back and plunged his hand beneath the waist of his slacks. Clutching his erection, he fisted himself with a fury he'd never known. It was a dangerous mixture of hostility and painfully intense arousal. His body was so charged with the specter of Hermione's touch, he was agonizing inside his own skin. When he began to release, it struck him with a violent intensity - his muscles seizing and shuddering spasmodically, his vision fading and eyelids involuntarily slamming shut, face straining with a look of anguish. Semen bled down his hand and pooled warmly onto his belly, wasted and messy.  
  
There was no pleasure, no actual release.  
  
It didn't cure his hunger for Hermione. He knew it wouldn't.  
  
It was a sad, desperate, frantic gesture. A gesture of defeat.  
  
* * * *  
  
"It's cold and dark outside your spell." -Zumpano  
  
"Remus?"  
  
He paused and tapped his foot against the front of his desk, feeling the resistance nudge his toes.  
  
**No - Not a dream - This is all real -**  
  
He looked up from the papers he'd been grading and found himself looking not at Hermione, but Arabella Figg, who was smiling at him from the doorway of his classroom.  
  
"Are you terribly busy," she asked lightly, her eyes gleaming with expectation.  
  
"Of course not," Remus replied, attempting to mask the disappointment in his voice. "Please come in."  
  
He set down his quill and rose as Arabella approached the desk.  
  
"Well, I see you *are* keeping quite busy," she said, nodding toward the pile of parchment before him.  
  
"Oh - yes - my earlier levels just turned in some essays - I've a bigger pile in my office," he said with resignation, bracing his arm against his desk and leaning against it casually.  
  
"Well, that's good to know."  
  
She opened her mouth and began to say something, but stopped herself, standing silent and thoughtful for a moment.  
  
"I - oh, this is so silly - I was starting to think you were, y'know, giving me the brush off," Arabella commented. Her voice was timid, but her face bore a deliberately pointed expression.  
  
A touch of pink crept into Remus' cheeks, as he guiltily raced to cover his tracks. "No - I've just had a great many demands on my time lately. I'm terribly sorry if I've caused you any anxiety."  
  
"I understand," she said warmly, placing her hand atop his on the desk, "but don't you ever take a break?"  
  
He laughed quietly, "Not often. 'Idle hands do the Devil's work.'"  
  
"Perhaps the Devil's work isn't such a bad thing," she spoke softly and smoothly. She drifted around the desk, intentionally maintaining eye contact with Remus, and moved nearer to him. "Idle hands can be quite useful in the right circumstances."  
  
He edged back slightly, nervous. "O-oh, not mine - B-believe me."  
  
She regarded him thoughtfully, her head slanted, "What is it that frightens you so, Remus?"  
  
"I'm not sure what you mean," he lied, dragging his fingers through his thick brown hair.  
  
"Oh, please, Remus - You're a handsome, intelligent, honest man. You're *single*. Women tend to notice these things - and I'm *certain* you don't go unnoticed. So why haven't you taken advantage of your god-given gifts and found yourself a good woman to keep you company?"  
  
"I-I just have other priorities right now. You're well aware, I'm sure, that decent jobs are hard to come by for me - and this one is among the best. I need to concentrate on my duties here at Hogwarts. Dating someone would just - just get in the way of that."  
  
"Now, why is that, Remus?"  
  
"W-well - well, I - uh-"  
  
"Remus, when was the last time you were with a woman?" She edged forward a bit, her body in dangerous proximity to his.  
  
"I - I don't think-"  
  
"What you need, Remus, is to learn how to relax and appreciate life," she said quietly, nearly pressed against him. "I could teach you how if you gave me the chance."  
  
She brought her hand to his cheek and caressed it. Her eyes, full of intent, traveled his face eagerly.  
  
"Arabella, I don't think this is a good idea."  
  
"You needn't be afraid of me, Remus. I only want to help you enjoy yourself."  
  
She gently slid a finger across his lips, tracing the outline of his mouth. Her touch was soft and soothing. He blinked heavily, swallowing hard, and let his mind begin to sink into the sensations - the sensations so reminiscent of Hermione's fingers moving over his face, his body.  
  
Arabella's hand rounded to the back of his neck and cradled his head. The other hand sunk into his thick graying hair. Rising slightly on the balls of her feet, she pressed her lips to his.  
  
Remus was initially non-responsive, standing rigid in her arms. But his body began to feel *her* again. *Hermione*. Arabella opened her mouth beneath him and slid her tongue across his lips, leveraging its way into his mouth. As the warmth of her body and the heat of her actions spread over him, he drifted into the passion of the moment, returning and deepening the kiss and hesitantly embracing her. But it was *her*. It was Hermione. Only Hermione.  
  
His clarity, however, soon returned. His eyes flew open and his posture once again stiffened. He grasped her by the shoulders and forcefully tore her away from his body.  
  
She looked at him helplessly, her eyes straining with confusion and frustration.  
  
"No, Arabella - This isn't going to happen."  
  
"But, Remus, you wanted me - I-I felt it. You -"  
  
"No - I'm sorry if I misled you, Arabella, but it was a mistake - you're a very attractive woman - but - I simply can't be with you."  
  
She watched him wordlessly for a moment or two, looking slightly dazed. Then her expression changed and she moved closer, studying him as if he was the new creature at the sideshow.  
  
"There's some one else," she said, as if answering a question she hadn't even uttered.  
  
A flash of terror moved across Remus and one mad idea began to scream through his head.  
  
**She knows.**  
  
"N-no, Arabella," he breathed nervously, his words fumbling out of his cottony mouth. "I'm working all the time. When would I have time for a - a relationship?"  
  
She scrutinized him all the harder.  
  
"Perhaps when no one's looking."  
  
Remus felt his stomach drop and panic begin to take hold of his mental processes.  
  
"Arabella, I assure you I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, his voice a bit too hurried and high-pitched to sound convincing. "I've hardly *touched* a woman in years."  
  
"Mmm-hmm," she nodded slowly, her face settling into an expression of thoughtful substantiation. "As I suspected - so when do you meet? How do you manage to carry on the affair without anyone knowing the truth?"  
  
"What truth?! What affair?!" he screeched. "Please - You're - you're not making any sense, Arabella."  
  
"It's alright, Remus," she said gently. "I'm an enlightened woman. I wouldn't let a little matter of sex get in the way of our friendship. You can be honest with me. It won't hurt my feelings or make me uncomfortable. I understand - we don't choose who we love."  
  
Remus stood dumbstruck before Arabella, his mouth moving as if beginning to express a thought, but repeatedly failing to grasp hold of the words. She smiled sympathetically and soothingly slid her hand over his arm.  
  
"I have to admit, I'm terribly smitten with you and I've entertained many a naughty fantasy about you," she said with a bawdy laugh, "but that's all water under the bridge now, as far as I'm concerned. You can't change the fact that you're gay and, honestly, I can't believe it didn't occur to me earlier."  
  
He sighed loudly and hung his head in exasperation.  
  
"Why does everybody think I'm gay all of a sudden?"  
  
"It makes total sense now that I think about it," she said, beginning to tick off the reasons on her fingers. "You're dreadfully good-looking. You're polite and nice - definitely one of those men you can take home to your parents. You're honest - well, about the necessary things. You're not the type to make crude remarks about women. You're intelligent - You also never seem interested in pursuing women and you spend a suspicious amount of time with Sirius Black -"  
  
"SIRIUS AND I ARE NOT HOMOSEXUAL LOVERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Arabella was taken off-guard by Remus' angry outburst - so divergent from his typically soft-spoken, innocuous demeanor - and blinked at him in stunned disbelief.  
  
"Okay, okay - sorry!" she said calmly, "I didn't think Sirius was gay, anyway."  
  
Remus gave her a cold stare. However, seeing her clearly wounded expression softened his annoyance a bit.  
  
"Listen, Arabella, I'm not going to stand here and defend my sexuality. I love women. I'm terribly attracted to them. I'm sorry if I in any way gave you the wrong impression, but I have other, extremely important concerns right now that require my full attention. I'm far too overloaded to give you the level of commitment you deserve."  
  
**Nice save, Remus. Perhaps Sirius has finally begun to rub off on you after all these years - No. Sirius would have shagged her right here on the floor.**  
  
Arabella appeared appeased by his gentle rejection. She gave him a slight smile, a thin veil of uneasiness nonetheless hanging between them.  
  
"I know, Remus," she said quietly, a tinge of pity in her voice. "You are shouldering quite a bit of responsibility these days. It was terribly selfish of me not to have considered that."  
  
Remus regarded her compassionately, pausing to reflect on the sheer solitude she betrayed in her dogged pursuit of his affections.  
  
**She still misses Jeoffrey.**  
  
"No - You weren't selfish. You simply expressed your interest in me - and I'm very flattered by that. I just need to - focus on other things. It's not in the slightest bit personal - you're a marvelous woman - And I hope this won't cause any strain between us. I do value your friendship."  
  
An uneasy silence hung between them, neither knowing what to say to the other. They smiled weakly and tried to pretend they were oblivious to the edgy atmosphere in the room.  
  
"I see you still have a great deal of work to plow through," she said anxiously, nodding toward the stack of papers, as she took her opportunity to back away from the stilted exchange.  
  
Her eyes swept about him with a strange glint.  
  
"Just make sure you're not working too hard. Take care of yourself - and give yourself a break every once and awhile, alright?"  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Well - I must be on my way. I've work to do as well," she said.  
  
Remus couldn't help but notice the lonely strain in her eyes, despite her lovely smile. He came over to the other side of the desk, giving her a quick sympathetic hug.  
  
"You take care of yourself, too, Arabella."  
  
"Oh, don't worry. I always do," she grinned. "See you later, Remus."  
  
"Bye."  
  
He sighed and slumped a bit, tired and relieved, feeling as if he'd just wrestled a bull and barely escaped alive. He took his seat at his desk and resumed his exam grading.  
  
"Professor Lupin?"  
  
Another voice broke the calming silence of the classroom. He paused, wishing for a bit of undisturbed silence and fixed a smile upon his face. He drew his eyes away from the test he'd been grading, dreading what new annoyance might be awaiting him.  
  
It was Hermione Granger - in the flesh. She stood at the threshold of the classroom, a becoming vision in her Gryffindor sweater and gray skirt, addressing him with earnest formality.  
  
He wasn't sure whether it was cause to celebrate or curse.  
  
"Hermione," Remus greeted her, fighting desperately to keep a benignly neutral expression affixed to his face. "How can I - help you?"  
  
She walked to his desk without a hint of trepidation, her notebook folded beneath her arm. Her robes blew about her a bit, revealing a vague outline of her curves and an improved view of her of her skirt swaying just above her knees. It smartly accentuated her long, pale legs.  
  
Remus immediately and indulgently took note, but hurriedly drew his eyes away as that familiar warmth began to creep over his body.  
  
"I had some questions about my paper. I wanted to clear them up before I handed it in. Are you busy?"  
  
"No. Not at all," he said with slight distraction. She had frequently come to him with similar requests in the past. She was thorough and curious and didn't like to finalize a paper without ensuring she had all her facts straight and question answered. He was impressed by her dedication, so rare in students of her age. Indeed, he'd always enjoyed their private academic discussions - in retrospect, at least. Could he possibly have known how much those conversations meant to him at the time? How they turned his mind from darker concerns and eased his feelings of loneliness? How her enthusiasm and curiosity made him smile and engaged his intellect in ways no one had in years?  
  
It was quite different now. The dynamics had changed radically and he wasn't quite sure this confab would yield anything but misery.  
  
Hermione, for her part, didn't appear particularly concerned about the exchange. With a flick of her wand, she repositioned a chair beside Remus' and settled in next to him at the desk, as she always did, so she could go over certain passages of her paper with him.  
  
She gingerly crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt over her thighs. Remus immediately perceived the distinct aroma that had become so familiar over the past couple of weeks - the scent that effused his body with warmth and expectation - that honey-peach odor that seemed to emanate from her every pore. When Hermione looked down to retrieve a handful of parchment from her notebook, Remus' eyes fell shut and he inhaled deeply in brief moment of weakness. It was all he could afford to indulge himself.  
  
Hermione, however, was all about business and leapt right into her inquiries.  
  
"I found some information about Echthroi in a book I bought at Flourish and Blotts. It said that the Echthroi prey upon people with an antipathy toward their community or society in general, but I was under the impression that they had the capacity to seek out weak egos and establish a parasitic relationship with those people. From what I understand, those people are more susceptible to negative influences. So I'm just a bit confused about that."  
  
Remus scanned the first page of her report and nodded approvingly. "Well, you're both right. People with ill-formed or conflicted identities often have a tendency to disassociate themselves from the world around them in some form. There are more occurrences of negative thought and emotion, which can result in hate, resentment, or utter indifference. When the Echthroi detect those qualities in a person, they're drawn to it and seek to attach themselves to the person and leech all remaining forms of individuality, self-esteem, and positive thought from them. That's how they breed hate and conflict so effectively."  
  
Hermione, industrious as always, was furiously taking notes while Remus spoke. Her long brown curls fell forward as a shroud around her face, which was set in an expression of concentration and active thought. The trace of a smile flickered across Remus' face, musing how becoming she looked when immersed in academic frenzy. He'd seen her like this hundreds of times since he'd met her, but it only just struck him how fond he'd grown of it.  
  
"Okay," she said, looking up from her parchment, quill at the ready in her hand. She regarded Remus with an unaffected openness. He marveled at the fact that her behavior toward him was so utterly unchanged. There was no hesitation or uneasiness in her body language or interaction with him. No indication of strain or anxiety between them. No suggestion of any lingering issues over the fact that her favorite professor slept with her and then quite unceremoniously dismissed her the next morning. Indeed, judging by Hermione's behavior, that night might as well have never happened.  
  
**I'll give it to her - she's certainly true to her word.**  
  
"Now," Hermione continued with her inquiries, "the Echthroi have been eliminated for the most part, but there are still pockets of them in certain areas, right?"  
  
"Correct."  
  
"Do we know where these areas are? I really couldn't find any specific information about that in my research."  
  
"That's because they're difficult to pinpoint," Remus replied. "Their basic form is imperceptible, but they can morph themselves into human form or even take over a human body if their effects are fully absorbed. So it's extremely tricky to locate groups until there's been a clear, pronounced pattern of discord and strife in a particular area. And by then it can be too late to repair the situation."  
  
"How so?" she asked, glancing up at Remus as she wrote away.  
  
"Well, there are instances of Echthroi outbreaks causing conflict, violence, destruction that simply can't be undone. Once an individual or community reaches a certain level of decay - caused by the Echthroi - there's very little that can be done to rehabilitate them. The effects are simply too strong to offset, so there are occurrences of extreme greed, corruption - negative behaviors along those lines. They can do a great deal of damage."  
  
"Hmm-mm," she nodded, scribbling out a sentence. "And in order to cure a victim, they have to undergo a sort of reprogramming to restore and reinforce identity?"  
  
"Yes. It's a lengthy process. Not at all easy, from what I've been told. I'm afraid I'm not entirely certain what this process entails or exactly how it's administered. These are rather recent developments, and I fear I've only a rudimentary understanding of Echthros at the moment."  
  
"Oh, that's fine," she said, smiling good-naturedly at him. "That's really all I needed to know anyway."  
  
"This is quite a unique topic for your paper, Hermione. What drew your attention to it?"  
  
She smiled, her eyes sparkling in an oddly incisive manner as she rose from the chair.  
  
"Oh, I stumbled upon it in a book I'd borrowed from the library. It intrigued me, so I decided to look into it a bit more. Such a timely issue, you know - since it's been suggested that what remains of them may now be in league with Voldemort."  
  
She magicked the chair back to the other side of the room. Remus stood to see her off.  
  
"Well, you've done a fine job. I'm impressed."  
  
Hermione made her way toward the door.  
  
"Thank you Professor Lupin," she said evenly. "Have a nice evening."  
  
He wished the door would close and lock itself before she could leave.  
  
**Where's Voldemort when you actually need him?! **  
  
But the door remained as it was. He watched Hermione's easy gait through it, as he stood, unmoving, behind the desk. He gazed at the empty, open door frame long after she was gone, hand stuffed in his pockets in an effort to keep his desire to hit himself in check.  
  
**Good - I'm glad she's not hurting. I behaved inappropriately and I was a complete ass afterward. She doesn't deserve to suffer for that -  
  
Still -  
  
It would be comforting if she seemed at all affected by it - a plaintive look toward me now and then, a little open hostility, perhaps some reluctance to be near me - especially alone, just a little vibe of tension radiating from her body -**  
  
  
  
I remember the first time  
  
I was lonely without her  
  
Can't stop thinking about her now -The Beatles  
  
Alone in his bedroom, Remus struggled to stay focused on academics - or nearly anything else besides Hermione. The images, the sensations, the emotions of that one night with her were burnt into his consciousness and they refused to leave him be.  
  
He couldn't shake off the memory of waking in the dead of night to find himself caught up in her arms, surrounded by her soft flesh and bathed in the affection she radiated even in her sleep. He couldn't elude it and he wasn't sure he wanted it to. For a sliver of time, he was golden and blessed. Contentment and joy mingled in his very blood. The prospect of becoming rooted and settled seemed, magically enough, possible.  
  
It haunted him now. Promise and potential thwarted - dead - leaving only the bittersweet aftertaste of memory.  
  
**It's tiring to deny yourself constantly.**  
  
Remus was drawn from his thoughts by the sounds of scratching at his door.  
  
**Ugh - what now?!** He thought wearily, as he reached for the door and drew it open.  
  
A large black dog bounded in and quickly transformed into a familiar figure - a lanky man who ran his fingers through his dark, unkempt hair and smiled widely.  
  
"Came by to see Harry and thought, since I was in the neighborhood, I'd pay a visit to my favorite wolfman," Sirius said jovially, whacking Remus on the shoulder. Sirius' blue eyes sparkled warmly. He strolled past his friend and made himself quite to home, stretching out comfortably on Remus' bed, folding his arms behind his head, and sinking into a downy pillow. "I had no idea the professors' quarters were so cozy. Nicer beds than the dorms. Fireplace. Complete privacy. It's a wonder we didn't tunnel into one of these when we were kids. After all, we nosed into every other inch of the castle."  
  
Remus chuckled as he returned to his desk and turned his chair toward Sirius. "If memory serves, we did consider hunting out McGonagal's room and sneaking into it to steal her grade book when she was away during our fifth year."  
  
But Sirius, for once, didn't seem interested in reminiscing over their past indiscretions. On the contrary, he was studying Remus with intense concern.  
  
"Mate, you look like the bloody dregs of hell. What's troubling you?"  
  
Remus hadn't checked himself in a mirror for days, but realized he must look a mess. He'd not had a decent night's sleep in weeks. He spent his every free moment reading until his eyes ached, in hopes of distracting his mind from thoughts of Hermione.  
  
"Don't beat around the bush now, Sirius - how do I really look?" he smirked.  
  
"Joke all you like," Sirius said soberly, "but you look worse than after a full moon."  
  
Remus' smile faded. He turned his eyes from Sirius. "There's nothing wrong with me besides too many papers to grade."  
  
"You're a bloody liar, Remus Lupin. Quit the self-effacing bullshit and come clean. I get enough of that with Harry."  
  
"Well, maybe Harry's got it right," he said quietly. "Some things are private."  
  
"Alright then," Sirius shrugged, adopting an aloof tone, "don't tell me. Keep it bottled up with all those other *private* matters you're too cowardly to discuss. I can't imagine how much fun it must be to be so repressed and miserable all the time."  
  
Remus rolled his eyes and neither said a word for several minutes.  
  
"There - there's a - a woman -" Remus admitted grudgingly.  
  
Sirius turned on his side suddenly, propping his head up on his palm. "Well, well, well - will wonders never cease. I thought that kind of thing was too - what was the word you used? - **messy** for you."  
  
"Yes, I did, too. It was completely unanticipated -"  
  
"Well, it's about time. I told you you'd benefit from some female companionship."  
  
Sirius sat quietly for a moment before a broad, wicked smile crossed his face.  
  
"Out with it, then - who is she?!"  
  
Remus shook his head vigorously. "Oh no. I'm not telling you *that*. You'll never shut up about it."  
  
"Do I know her?" Sirius asked thoughtfully. Remus shrugged his shoulders indifferently.  
  
"I do, don't I?" Sirius stubbornly forged ahead, the wheels already spinning inside his busy mind. Remus remained silent.  
  
Sirius' face suddenly lit up and he slowly nodded his head. "It's Arabella, isn't it?!"  
  
Remus was stony-faced. "I'm not telling you."  
  
"It's so obvious now that I think about it. No wonder she was itching to get you alone after the Phoenix meeting," he snickered quietly to himself. "Itching - yes, certainly did seem to have an itch she was hoping you could scratch."  
  
Remus let out an exasperated sigh, but neither confirmed nor denied Sirius' suspicions.  
  
"So, what's the situation? Are you together? Are you dating? Or are you two just shagging for fun."  
  
"Nope."  
  
Sirius shook his head in incredulity, "It *has* been awhile for you, hasn't it? If there's *nothing* going on, what the hell are you making such a fuss about?"  
  
"There's not anything going on right now. I didn't say there wasn't anything going on *before*," Remus replied matter-of-factly.  
  
Sirius slowly sat back down on the edge of the bed, his interest obviously piqued. "Before what?"  
  
"Listen, it - it was quite spontaneous. In fact, it was a fluke. We were - *thrown together* under very strange circumstances and we, uh - we - I -"  
  
Remus' face reddened rapidly as he regarded Sirius with a sheepish admission of transgression.  
  
A delighted smile spread across Sirius' face and he slapped Remus across the knee. "You finally got some!"  
  
Remus thought for a moment, looking mightily conflicted.  
  
"Sirius, I don't know exactly what happened that night or where it came from. All I know for certain is - is that she awoke something inside of me -"  
  
"An erection," Sirius suggested, smirking.  
  
Remus scowled at his friend and shook his head. "That's not quite what I meant."  
  
"What then? What was it?"  
  
"It -" Remus was clearly struggling for words. "It - was something real and vital. I don't know - I'm not even sure if I know a word for it. It's just that - no matter how hard I try, I can't turn back - I can't let go of the idea of her and I."  
  
Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and sighed deeply, "Then *why* aren't you with her now?"  
  
"Because it's not practical - or wise - It could mean trouble for both of us."  
  
"In other words, you *really* do have feelings for her and that scares the shit out of you."  
  
Remus' eyes shot up to Sirius' with an urgent swiftness, "Sirius, I've never, ever felt this way before. It was immediate and overwhelming and automatic - and when it was over -"  
  
He struggled for words.  
  
"Well - it's still not over. I've always been able to shut out the emotions that scared me, that complicated my life -"  
  
"Which is *exactly* why you're talking to me right now instead of off with her getting laid - like you *should* be!"  
  
"Thank you very much for that expert analysis of the situation," Remus said acerbically, grimacing, "but I'm afraid it's a little thornier than that."  
  
"Alright - don't keep me in suspense," Sirius said with a tinge of sarcasm.  
  
"Listen, Sirius, I've tried my *damnedest* to purge her from my system, but she will not go."  
  
"Well, of course not - she's a woman, not some bad fish you had for dinner."  
  
"I realize that," Remus said edgily. "It's just that - her voice, her body, her smell haunts me every minute of the day and night. I can't even sleep anymore for dreams and thoughts of her. I feel as if I'm going mad."  
  
"Well, well, I guess Arabella Figg gives as good as she looks."  
  
"I never said it was Arabella."  
  
"Never said it wasn't, either - she's guilty until proven innocent in my book."  
  
Remus began to say something, but thought better of it. He nervously drew his lower lip between his teeth and bore down so hard on the flesh he could soon taste a faint metallic tang as he tensely swallowed down his saliva.  
  
"Of course," Sirius said with a menacing mischievousness. "I suppose Arabella's not the *only* possibility. I mean, there's - well, there's always Sprout - a bit on the stout side, but no doubt more than willing to dig in and get dirty. Or Hooch, who, if memory serves, always *did* mount a broomstick quite adeptly. And, McGonagal, at her advanced age, must be *crackling* with experience. And those transfiguration skills - well, she *is* a pus-"  
  
"*Shut up!!!!* You are so utterly *vile*," Remus said with only partially amused disgust. "Why do I still talk to you?"  
  
Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and sat back, grinning, "Because I, my friend, am the only one of the two of us who knows how to live."  
  
"Right," Remus rolled his eyes. "Because I forgot - socializing with Dementors for twelve years does wonders for one's ability to function fully and effectively amongst human beings."  
  
Remus regretted the words as they left his mouth. Sirius' expression turned severe, first with injury and then with anger, and he slowly rose to his feet, clearly agitated.  
  
"Lupin, you can be a *real* prick when you have to acknowledge that you don't know everything - and you don't, by the way. You could O.W.L. circles around me, I won't deny that, but you're fucking useless when it comes to human relations. How is it that you're thirty-six years old and you're still getting spotty over whether or not to ask a girl out?!"  
  
"It's not that cut-and-dry - I told you!"  
  
"Name me a relationship worth pursuing that *is* and I'll surrender myself to the Ministry," Sirius said, pacing the floor.  
  
"Point taken, but this is still an impossible situation."  
  
"Then drop it. Forget her. Forget the sex. Forget your feelings. Move. The fuck. On!"  
  
Remus was quiet, looking at Sirius helplessly.  
  
"I-I -"  
  
"You can't?"  
  
Remus shook his head woefully.  
  
"Why? What is so devastatingly amazing about this woman that you can't function without her?!"  
  
"I - I don't know, Sirius - she's just - different - different from any other woman I've even - ever met."  
  
Sirius nodded his head back-and-forth impatiently, tiring of the banality of Remus' sentiments.  
  
"Yes, yes, go on - I've heard this bullshit before - tell me something *new*," Sirius said with annoyance, hoping his rudeness might light a fire of emotion under his friend.  
  
"What the fuck do you *want* me to say?! I mean, she's - she's a beautiful girl - surely, in all your goggling over women, you *must* have happened to noticed that she's matured into an extremely attractive woman -"  
  
Sirius perked up a bit. "Hmm - so I *do* know her."  
  
He shot a meaningful look at Remus, adding smugly, "but I knew that already -Anyway, I still haven't heard a valid explanation why you - Mr. Composure - can't simply write this one off."  
  
"We-sh-Well - I mean, she's beautiful-"  
  
"We've already established that."  
  
"Yes! I know! Give me chance to finish my thoughts, dammit!" Remus yelled. "Sh-she - doesn't take her beauty for granted. I mean, it's like she's - not even aware of it-it just shows all over her, so natural and-and genuine. And-and -"  
  
"And? Is that all you have?"  
  
"No! Dammit! She's fucking brilliant - amazing. Sometimes - sometimes *I* feel stupid when I talk to her. God! No one - absolutely no one - has ever challenged me like that. It's - it's - *exciting*. And it's not just her mind - it's her soul and her heart. She's - wiser about things than I am. She's good and honest and real and -"  
  
"And *what*, Remus? What? Because you're still sitting here like a sad-sack - bloodshot eyes and pathetic expression and all - stuttering yourself into oblivion over this woman instead of *doing* something to make your words worth anything."  
  
Remus couldn't respond. He accepted his reprimand quietly, well-aware he was entirely responsible for his own misery.  
  
"You're a fucking mess over this woman, mate, but you don't care enough to do anything about it - Or maybe it's just the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in a really long time. Maybe all this drama has started because one good screw was all it took to send your entire system into overload and now you're blowing your feelings for her completely out of proportion as a reaction."  
  
"No! No, Sirius - No! I've had lots of sex - lots of meaningless one-night- stands, my share of passionate love making - but never once did I wake up with a woman after sex and feel utterly - alive. I did - I did with *her*."  
  
"Did you? Really? Because you don't *look* very alive right now."  
  
"Sirius, when I looked down and saw her laying there all tangled up in my body - god, she looked so serene and fulfilled - and fuck, I've never felt so content and whole and happy and safe - SAFE, SIRIUS, SAFE!!!!!! Do you know the last time I felt safe was when James and Lily were alive and Peter hadn't betrayed us all - when we were all dumb kids here at Hogwarts, hatching silly schemes and looking out for one another?! *No one* has been able to make me feel that way since I decided -"  
  
"Decided what? That you had all the answers and you didn't have to be bothered with humanity anymore? That it was too *messy* to let yourself go and enjoy life every once in awhile? That you were *above* daft ideas like passion and emo-"  
  
"I THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH HER!" Remus yelled, jumping to his feet and coming face-to-face with his friend. He stood, flushed and breathless, for a moment before becoming aware of his actions and turning away, almost shocked at himself. He slumped back into his chair and stared forward dumbly.  
  
"I think I love her," he said in a hushed voice.  
  
Sirius gaped at Remus for a moment and then shook his head in exasperation. "Then remind me again why you aren't with her?!!! What the hell is wrong with you?!"  
  
"I *told* you. It's just not possible - in fact, it's a mistake. I've no right to feel the way I do about her."  
  
Sirius snorted. "What, Remus? D'you fancy one of your students?" he joked, grinning wickedly. The smile, however, drained from his face when Remus made no reply, merely stared at the floor, guiltily. "Remus! No! What the hell are you thinking?!"  
  
"I'm not! That's the problem. Hell, my mind won't even operate when it comes to her. She's leading me around by my emotions and it scares the hell out of me."  
  
"Okay - let's try this again - do I know her?"  
  
Again, Remus said nothing, but his eyes darted nervously about the room. Sirius knew his friend well-enough to know that was a sign of admittance.  
  
"Well -" he said contemplatively. "I really *only* know one girl at Hogwarts right now, but that's im-" Remus' expression wavered, once again betraying the truth.  
  
Sirius jumped to his feet, roaring, "Remus, have you lost your mind?! You had sex with Hermione Granger?!"  
  
"Twice," Remus croaked, gazing at the floor shamefully.  
  
"She's sixteen years old! She's dating Harry!"  
  
"Not any more."  
  
"Not any more?" Sirius furrowed his brow, completely bewildered by what information had just come out over the last several seconds.  
  
"Harry broke up with her a few weeks ago."  
  
"He never said anything to me about it - least he could have done was tell me about it," Sirius mumbled indignantly, pacing the floor. He stopped in front of Remus and gave him a hard look. "So this is one of those middle- aged, 'relive-your-youth' things, right?"  
  
"No," Remus said plainly. "I wish it were. It would be easier to accept that way - I don't know, Sirius - there's no way I can explain this to you without sounding utterly fucking clichéd - All I know, whether you believe it or not, is - it's *never* been this way before."  
  
"Of course it hasn't! You're twenty years older than her!"  
  
Remus smirked slightly, "Obviously twelve years in Azkaban did nothing to dull your math skills."  
  
Sirius was not amused.  
  
"Listen, I'm the smart-ass, here," he snapped ferociously. "You need to focus on keeping yourself out of trouble and let me worry about the snide remarks."  
  
A laugh sputtered past Remus' lips, despite his best efforts to suppress it. Sirius glared at him.  
  
"What's so funny, Lupin? *I'm* not the one putting my entire living on the line for a piece of sixteen year old ass."  
  
Remus kept laughing. In fact, the situation struck him as so comical he was scarcely still in his chair. "*Please!* *You're* lecturing *me* about sexual conduct - *and* yelling at me for cracking wise - This is absolutely the most fucked-up conversation I've ever had with you!"  
  
Sirius kept a hard stare on Remus for several moments, but then began to laugh in spite of himself, "Okay, okay - so perhaps I'm not the person to be handing out that kind of advice, but, Remus, you're an intelligent man - you *must* see how utterly insane this situation is."  
  
"I do. Why do you think I'm not with her right now?"  
  
Sirius sat back down on the bed again, looking slightly dazed. "And - you love her?"  
  
"Yes," Remus replied with near regret. "I think I do - I-I've fought it so hard - but I can't stop thinking about her -"  
  
"Listen, I can't say as I think this is the wisest idea, but I haven't seen you like this in ages, either. You clearly care about her - If she feels the same way about you, it won't do either of you any good to deny your feelings for each other. In fact, I think it's rather daft. You have the opportunity to be really happy, Remus. You should take it."  
  
"There are rules to uphold."  
  
"Rules - y'know, you just told me that the best times of your life were here at this very school, sneaking around the castle with our Marauder's Map and pulling pranks at every turn. You didn't seem so very concerned about rules then."  
  
"Yes, but I always felt guilty. I mean, it was terribly disrespectful to deceive Dumbledore like that after he'd gone out of his way to make a place for me at Hogwarts."  
  
"But would you take it all back - all the great times, all the friendship - if you had the chance?"  
  
Remus didn't answer.  
  
"Well, what are you missing out on now?"  
  
Neither of them spoke for several moments before Sirius cleared his throat and looked uncomfortably at Remus.  
  
"I shouldn't want to know this, but since you get to be a lecherous old perv -"Sirius cocked an eyebrow and leaned in close to Remus, speaking in hushed tones - "Was she as good as I think she was?" 


End file.
